The Faster You Fall, The Higher You'll Fly
by phenomenalxlaura
Summary: As the saying goes, "A man is already in love with any woman who listens to him." When Jonathan Good, known to the world as Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley, opens up to Nicole Jones, their love for one another catapults to the top, and fast. But what goes up, must come down. DEAN/OC. OC is NOT a Mary-Sue!
1. Chaotic Start

**A/N: **The start of this takes place in DGUSA, where my original character, Nicole, meets Jon Moxley. From there, it'll shift into other independent promotions, and eventually the WWE verse. Nicole is loosely based on me, the author.

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I didn't come into this business because my father used to be a wrestler, I didn't come into this business because of modeling, and I sure as hell did not come into this business joining some Diva Search contest. The reason I became a professional wrestler was because it's something I've wanted to since I was 10 years old. The wrestlers always seemed larger than life; most people would say they wanted to be a successful business entrepreneur or a police officer, but what I wanted was to become a female professional wrestler. My entire family shunned the idea completely, no support from them whatsoever in it.

Oh, I forgot to simply say a hello to you all. Hi, I'm Nicole. I grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I've been labeled a loser, nothing special, no source of talent in my entire being. I do, however, look decent. I mean, my hair's dark brunette, brown eyes, and, if I do say so myself, my butt's nice, too. I can wrestle, I've taken risky bumps time and time again. Oh, and who can forget the amount of blood I've lost? Getting thrown into barbed-wire ropes, thumbtacks, and having my body stapled with a stapler gun by Sami Callihan in CZW a few months ago…man. It's crazy the shit I do to get my name out there. Other than that, I'm nothing special… But thanks to all the risky things I've done in CZW with Sami Callihan and Jessica Havok, Dragon Gate USA called me up, wanting me to see the talent around here, get a feel of everything, and eventually showcase what I can do. Yet here I was, walking into the doors of Dragon Gate USA to showcase what exactly I can do in the ring.

I always look awkward when walking into unfamiliar places, not knowing anyone. So I immediately sift through the hallways, glimpsing up to say hi to anyone that I manage to pass by, only to eventually reach the women's locker room. It was quiet, but there were a few females in there. The first girl was someone I recognized immediately, she was petite, had tanned skin, and was incredibly gorgeous. She was Reby Sky. Fuck, there I go again doubting how I look compared to other females. Shit, that was a habit. I awkwardly make my way to the bench, placing my duffle bag onto the wooden bench.

"Oh, there's the new girl! Right?" Reby asked, walking over to me.

I look over to my right as Reby walks over, a makeshift and awkward smile over my lips at that instant. I don't want to be rude and present myself wrong. "Uh, yeah. That's me. I'm Nicole." Reby reaches out to shake my hand, I gladly accept.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Rebecca…Reby Sky. I've heard some buzz about you from management." Reby tucked her light brown hair behind her ear, bringing her hands back down near her hips.

Before I could even say anything more, a woman comes waltzing out of the makeup area, with a Mohawk, tattoos, AND piercings. Holy shit, Christina Von Eerie is here in DGUSA? I worked with her briefly in CZW for one match, before she unfortunately left for personal reasons. "Hey!" Christina called out, excited. "Nicole, holy shit!" She sprinted over towards me, immediately going in for a hug, "So nice to see you here!"

"Same to you, Christina!" I pulled back a little, my lips curling into a tight smile.

"Ohhh, is fresh blood here?" Instead of coming from the makeup area, she came into the locker room with a camera man following behind her. Great. I look like shit. And I'm on camera. I really need to learn to expect the unexpected, especially in this business. I did my best, placing my hands on my hips, cocking my head slightly, as Reby and Christina turned to the camera. Reby was about to say something, but instead was cut off by the newest woman accompanying the group, "Shut it, Reby. This doesn't concern you. This concerns that _thing _over there."

I squinted my eyes, already annoyed with this bitch. Granted, she was in character, but still…I opened my

mouth, speaking, "And _you _are?"

"I'm quite surprised you don't know who I am. I'm Trina Michaels, an award winning actress."

"Award winning ADULT actress. Learn the difference and learn that there's a fine line between acting and porn." Christina rolled her eyes, speaking once more, "Nicole has a name. And she hasn't done shit to you."

"That's true, but..." Trina played with her blonde locks before reaching out for my face, gently grabbing some strands of my hair, "I just wanted to give her a fair warning, since she's new here…" Trina was literally inches away from my face at that point, her eyes fixated on me, "Stay the fuck away from Jon Moxley. He's _mine_."

I pulled away as fast as I could as she stood merely inches away from me, playing with the ends of my brunette locks. I really had no idea who she was talking about, but I nodded, "I wouldn't want your bitch of a boyfriend anyway." I sucked in a deep breath as Trina glared at me. She didn't know what to say in return, but concluded on with glaring at me, then finally exiting the women's locker room. The camera man followed closely behind, lowering the camera as soon as they began to exit the room.

"And that, Nicole, is Trina Michaels. Dragon Gate's resident bitch." Rebecca stated as soon as the locker room door shut. She turned to face me, placing her right hand on her right hip, shifting her weight slightly.

I laughed, not going to lie. "She was in…in character though…right?" Fresh into this company, who was I to know who's who, what someone's character was, heel or face, ect. I mean, yeah, some people I knew here, but from what I've seen, the roster here was pretty slim on people I actually know personally. Honestly, to be quite frank with you, I probably sound like a fucking idiot. It's whatever though. I was always advised by my wrestling trainers to never be afraid to ask questions; the dumbest question asked is the one not asked, as the elders _always _say, y'know.

"I wish. She acts nice on some occasions, but the majority of how Trina acts is what you just witnessed. She's a major bitch." Christina then spoke, placing her hands on her slender hips. Her baggy pants sagging beneath her belly button.

"Alright. And, uh, mind catching me up here? Who's Jon Moxley?" My hands managed to cross over my chest as my upper body rested up against the row of lockers.

Reby sighed, "He's a…oh, how do I explain this…he's a talented, arrogant douche bag." I looked confused I'm sure, but nodded as if I knew why she'd call him a douche bag. But who was I to pass judgment on what someone says? I don't even know the man, so why judge a book by the reviews on the back?

Instead of asking more questions and having Reby go on some big tyrant, words flew out of my mouth with ease, trying to end the conversation of course, "Oh, typical men." Some men in the wrestling business were douche bags, but a lot of them ended up being real softies. Like older brothers, you know? I usually got along with men more so than women, due to my interests. The usual line up of my day off consisted of video games, horror movies, watching and/or talking about wrestling, or going for brisk walks outside. Most men we're into that, hence why I clicked with men more than females. Eventually I mustered up the courage to finally venture out and meet as much of the roster as I could before the show began, "Well, I'm going to head out. Grab some water, maybe work out a bit before the show…introduce myself to everyone. Nice meeting you, Reby. And it was good seeing you again, Christina." A smile overcame my features. They nodded and happily returned the favor saying they were happy to see me. I exiting the women's locker room beaming.

In the hallway there wasn't much. Some tables branched out with stacks of papers, some sharpies and pens, a few random flyers. Upon walking amongst the halls, my hands in the front pockets of my UFC branded logo hoodie, I looked on the wall seeing pictures of various talents holding titles, some Pay Per View posters spread throughout. And then, in the distance, something caught my attention. A man's rugged, Midwestern laced accent echoed throughout the hall, in the next room. The door was propped open by a door stopper where the man was clearly speaking from. Taking in a deep breath I walked over to the door, standing in the doorway, peeking over to see who was putting on the promo or interview, whatever you'd like to call it. The man was in a rage, speaking about how he should be the number one contender. No, the World Heavyweight Champion. No, he should be _every fucking _champion, 'cause he's God himself.

His promo skills were Oscar worthy, not even being sarcastic there. His every emotion was tugging at my emotions. Good lord, who was this man? Give me some tips, will you? That's all I kept thinking at that instance, watching this man speak. But then my concentration was interrupted, "I see you're spying on Mox. Way to go." I turned my head, then my entire being around as the woman was basically in my ear, and it was Trina Michaels…again. This bitch was really nerve-racking. "Didn't I warn you to stay the fuck away from him?"

"Okay, I think you have the wrong idea here-" Before I could even finish, she had the audacity to cut me off. Really?

"I don't have the wrong idea here, doll face. You might be new here, and I'm pretty sure you think laying on your back is something you're used to doing when getting ahead here," As soon as those words exited her mouth, I couldn't help but look down to the ground, laughing silently to myself. "But that shit isn't going to work here…Nicole, is it? Whatever." To be honest, I blanked out after she kept speaking. I drowned her out. Her words were muffled as it registered in my mind, but if the last bit of her sentence that I could pick up on was something along the lines of don't fuck with him. You're not good enough….really, the whole "you're not good enough" phrase was getting old. "Jon want's someone with class. A girl he can take home to mom. He wants a woman like me. Not some awkward, anti-social hag like you." Again, I chuckled to myself. Her remarks were stupid. Can't think of anything fresh, Trina?

"Woah, ladies. No need to fight over me." The man, Jon Moxley, emerged from the room. His hair drenched with water.

I quickly covered my tracks, "We're not fighting over you, I can promise you that. I don't even know you. Trina, you're little girlfriend here, thinks that I'm trying to get in your pants. But, unlike her, I actually have class, morals, and I most definitely don't lay on my back or take dick up the ass for a living, so…" I looked over to Trina who didn't know what to say, other than mutter some obscenities my way. "There's no issue here. Just keep your bitch on chain because, incase you haven't heard, you mess with the bull, you'll get the horns." Before the situation could become anymore heated, I walked back to the women's locker room, retracing my steps. Eventually finding the locker room, I headed straight for my duffle bag, reaching in for my iPhone and ear bud headphones to work out. Lord knows after the stuff that just went down moments ago I needed to release some aggression. I placed the ear buds into my ears, blaring some Avenged Sevenfold, stretching my arms out, before heading back out into the hallways to head over to the training area where a few treadmills were placed accordingly in.

Yeah, what a chaotic start, eh?


	2. Fresh Blood

"God, you we're right. Trina is a fucking bitch." I explained, barreling into the Women's locker room once more. This time is was filled with more women than what was previously in there. "Oh. Hey everyone." I lowered my tone whilst saying that, slightly embarrassed as the eyes of every single female competitor was on me. My cheeks were beet red; I looked down at the ground once more as I my feet clobbered against the floor, eventually reaching the wooden bench where my bag was. The bag was zipped up, which is strange because I left it unzipped when I had last left the locker room. "_Whatever_," I thought, shaking my head before reaching out for the zipper and re-unzipping my duffle bag. When I opened the flap of the duffle bag, every thing was gone.

EVERYTHING.

My clothes, my wrestling boots, kick pads, perfume, shampoo & conditioner…every _fucking _thing was gone. In place of those items was Trina Michaels' magazines and XXX movies. Oh, lovely. Just what I wanted to grace my eyes on; Trina fingering herself for a magazine. For God's sake, _this _woman is what Jon Moxley is in to? Really? Before I could continue sifting through my items, I glared down at the newly placed items into my bag, then words began to spew out of my mouth, "Who in the fuck stole my things? Someone HAD to see something!" I turned to my right, looking over at unfamiliar faces; the women looked confused.

A woman, in all black clothing, spoke up, "We have _no _idea what you're talking about."

"Right, so all my things just up and disappeared and was replaced by," I reached for a magazine, pulling it out, "this fucking sluts things? Yeah, that makes perfect fucking sense." My items were stolen, these chicks should understand how angry I am and why I should be this angry. If this is some sort of tradition to pull on the new people on the roster, I don't agree with it, that's for sure. As soon as I finished up my sentence, I threw the magazine down onto the floor, crashing onto the concrete. Before any more rage-filled words exited my being, I left the locker room in a hurry, going off to find the suspected culprit, Trina Michaels. Before I could get far, though, Reby Sky and Christina Von Eerie were chatting in the middle of the hallway near catering.

"Hey, Laura." I walked up to them, still raging. "Woah, what's wrong?"

"Someone stole my fucking things from my bag. And apparently the rest of the roster is blind, because they claim to not know who took it." I sucked in a breath, "REALLY? Out of all those chicks, not one person saw who actually did it? The kicker is that it's filled with Trina Michaels' porn DVD's and fucking degrading magazines. I can only assume 2 people…Jon Moxley or Trina herself." I balled my hands into a tight fist as they rested in my hoodies front pocket over my stomach.

"We'll help you look for your stuff. I'm sorry you're first night here has been shitty so far." Christina stated, her eyes filled with concern. I nodded, sighing. I mumbled something along the lines of thank you, but it was barely audible.

For the next half hour, Christina, Reby, and myself searched high and low for my items, before we walked near the entrance area, behind the curtains. A huge TV screen was playing the current events of what was happening out in the ring. I don't know what was happening, but I did see one person out of the two people I ran into briefly before all my items were taken from MY duffle bag…Jon Moxley. He was cutting some promo. Hearing his voice now made me sick. If there was a list of the top douche bags in the country, I'm pretty sure he'd top the list. Granted I don't know who stole my items, I have a pretty good idea that it was his little bitch girlfriend, Trina Michaels.

Before Jon could say much more, Trina Michaels came to ring. Carrying a trash bag. Oh, but what could be in it? The suspense is killing me. My bet is on… my…fucking…property…my clothes…ALL of it was in that bag, I'm sure.

"Jon, Jon…wait…I have a surprise for you." Trina stepped into the ring, placing the trash bag filled with things in the middle of the ring. I couldn't help but place my hands on my hips. I'm pretty sure Reby Sky and Christina Von Eerie were trying to talk to me, but I was ignoring it, solely focused on the happenings of this segment. Trina continued, "The only way to get to the top of Dragon Gate USA is to remove the trash first. And tonight, you and I, we came across one trashy hoe. Some fresh face, grunge rocker chick." Jon nodded, laughing faintly. The crowd booed as the segment continued, getting louder and louder with every movement the duo made. Trina began pulling various things from the bag, starting with my Nirvana t-shirt…my favorite shirt to wear, too. "Oh, God. She's into Nirvana? Really, girl? This isn't the 90's anymore." She reached into the bag, pulling out my studded belt with a skull belt buckle, "Ugliest belt I've ever seen." She chucked the belt and the t-shirt across the ring like it was literally trash. Then, she pulled out a book of mine. A scrapbook…filled with personally family photos…her grimy fingers sifting through page after page, remarks about me and my family, "Oh, and it's redneck central here, folks!" Jon leaned down to take a gander at the photos, which really were nice family photos at parks and shit, nothing redneck there, like really? And besides, I'm from the Midwest, so how can I be classified as a God damn redneck? "And who's _this_?" She pointed to a picture, picking up the thick scrapbook, pointing to a photo of my younger sister, Rachel.

Trina had began to say something into the microphone, but before she could say anymore I came barreling from the backstage area, immediately sliding under the ring, tackling this bitch. As soon as her back hit the canvas, the crowd went from booing to cheering, saying things like, "Kick her ass!" or "Take that cum whore down!" I grabbed a handful of Trina's hair, slamming the back of her head against the canvas a few times before the only other person's hands in the ring reached out for mine, pulling me up to a vertical base. Jon Moxley… he held me up against his body, pulling my hair to make sure I couldn't get away. Trina got up to a vertical stance, got in my face, "You are the dumbest fucking bitch I've ever seen in my entire life." She slapped my with her right hand, then her left hand came crashing down against my face. I was doosy for a split second, only to realize I was set up for a snap DDT by Jon Moxley. He lifted his leg up, then brought his leg forward, causing me to come crashing down onto the mat, face first.

_Crack_! My nose cracked, fuck, fuck, fuck. Blood began to spew out of my nose. I could barely fathom the pain that I was in. There was a pretty high fucking chance that my nose was broken, I cupped my nose with one hand, slightly lifting my head off the canvas. But Trina kneeled down, "As I said before, stay the fuck away from Jon Moxley." She stood up to a vertical stance, then brought her foot down hard onto my back. Jon then posed over me, garnishing more heat from the crowd.

Before I knew it, the ring had two referees attending to me, Christina Von Eerie and Reby Sky were out here, AND two medical personnel were out here to see what exactly was wrong. I sat up, still cupping my face. My hoodie, the pink areas surrounding the bold UFC logo, was splotched with blood. People in the crowd, a few were snapping pictures, some looked on in amazement, some cheered for me to get up. It was a nice feeling, yeah, but holy shit…this is not how I wanted to start off in Dragon Gate USA.

"Are you okay?" Reby asked, gently helping me up to a vertical stance, Christina joining in on my other side. I nodded slighly, blood still pouring out of my nose. A medical staff person handed me a white towel as I pressed it up against my nose, putting pressure against it to hopefully stop the blood from flowing. "I really don't know why Trina would've done that to you." Reby added as we exited the ring, Christina followed.

"I don't know either." My words were muffled due to the towel covering my face.

"And I can't believe Jon did that to you. I hope he feels like utter shit seeing you like this." Christina, Reby, and myself eventually made it to the back behind the curtains.

"Nicole, you okay?" A medical staffer asked, his hands covered in yellow latex gloves. He was carrying my items, still in that trash bag though, to the back with us.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I might've broke my nose though." I tilted my head back slightly, the white towel now splotched with various areas of fresh blood, as I pinched my nose a little, stopping the blood as much as I could. "This looks worse than what it really is, I'm sure." I pressed my back up against the tiled wall, "This could've been a paper cut and I bleed like it's my damn juggler or something. I bleed a lot for some reason." I couldn't help but laugh, even though the sides of my face hurt from the two slaps Trina gave me. I reassured the doctors, "I think I'll be okay though. If I need anything, I'll come to you guys." The doctors nodded, then walked back to medical wing of the backstage area.

"If you're feeling better, maybe you should ask management if they'll let you go out there and cut a promo on this. The crowd seems really invested in this little rivalry of yours." Christina suggested, Reby nodded, agreeing.

"Eh, I don't want to run into the fire quite yet, you know? This is just smoldering…it'll be ablaze soon, especially if Trina keeps these types of antics up." I sighed, finally able to take the white towel away from my nose. It was done bleeding, thank God.

I put the towel into the garbage, assuming they wouldn't want to reuse the towel as it's stained with my blood. "Well, I'm going to go clean up as best I can. I'll see you guys in a bit. Thanks for being there for me." I added, grabbing the trash bag to head back to the Women's locker room.

As I headed down the barely familiar hallway, a man in the middle of a corner hallway saw me pass by. I didn't even notice him, until I passed the corner hallway, his voice called out, startling me, "Hey!" Great, it was Jon Moxley. I ignored him as if he was just another brick layered on the wall. "How'd those slaps taste?" He had the nerve to ask. I turned around, the lower part of my face covered in dried blood, along with splotches on my UFC logo'd shirt. I clearly was not in the mood, you could tell by the expression on my face. I didn't even have to say anything; my body language and the war wound on my face explained everything for me. "Jesus Christ…" He sucked in a deep breath. "Are you…OK?" REALLY? The nerve to ask that?

"Oh, I'm just fucking PEACHY." I rolled my eyes, turning back around to head back to the locker room area. Before I could begin to watch, Jon grabbed my forearm that was carrying the trash bag, trying to turn me around. He was successful, but as I turned around, I lifted my free hand into the air, my hand slapping his face. He let go immediately, "Well, how'd THAT slap taste?" Jon cupped his face slightly, before glaring into my eyes. He didn't say anything after that, not that I'd care anyway. I turned back around, heading back to the women's locker room area.

I really don't know Jon, really…I don't. But from what I've seen so far, this man is a total douche bag and clearly has no emotional attraction to anyone. Never has, never will. I can tell that my start in Dragon Gate USA is going to be eventful. And I, Nicole Jones, am out for revenge.


	3. Eight Shots

**A/N:** This chapter is based on one random dream I had of Dean. So, enjoy. I thought it fit perfectly. Haha.

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After everything happened tonight, being my first day at Dragon Gate USA, I was in a state of complete shock and anger. After everything that happened, I decided it was best I hang out at my hotel for the night. Make use of the 24 hour complimentary breakfast, watch stupid TV shows at 2 in the morning, instead of go out to eat and get shit-faced.

I entered my cream colored laced with dark brown and sea blue colored hotel room. My duffle bag, now refilled with my items, I propped it up against the wall near the bathroom. The stuff that Trina Michaels threw into my bag previously was placed right outside her and Jon's locker room door. My nose was still pretty sore, it might be broken, but whatever. I'm used to pain by now, as I should. Wrestling is a risky business; I've can't even keep count the number of times I thought I've broke my neck or leg.

I pulled my phone out from my pants pocket as I sat down on the edge of the fluffy bed, then opened up the twitter app. I began typing, "_To the bitch that thought it was cute stealing my personal items, you ain't cute. Much like you, karma's a bitch_." The tweet posted to my profile, and almost immediately my mentions exploded with questions. I ignored every single one, not wanting to give anything away. After all this was a business and I didn't want to give any suspense away to the fans waiting eagerly to buy the Dragon Gate USA DVD that I'll be featured on. "_When the time comes, just purchase DGUSA's upcoming DVD and you'll find out why I'm so upset. Release date: July_." I couldn't post much more than that to twitter, seeing as they was still filming and matches to be done throughout the next few days. Not to mention interviews for the DVD and artwork.

Taking in a deep breath, I fell backwards, my back hitting the brim of the pillow, while the back of my head rested gently against the feather filled pillow. I closed my eyes, only to have them peel open due to knocking at my door. Grimacing to myself, exhausted, I took in a deep breath, then headed to the door. Before opening it, I looked into the peephole to see Reby again. Finally, someone I actually seem to get a long with. I opened it, "Hey." I exclaimed.

"Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you're all right." She stood in the door frame, placing her hands on her slender hips.

"I'm fine, really. Thank you."

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come out and have dinner with the rest of the roster? Get to know the rest of the roster? I assure you, everyone else is pretty nice." Reby added, batting her eyelashes to try and convince me to join in. As much as I wanted to say no, I couldn't pass it up. I had to get to know these men and women eventually, so I might as well join in.

"Sure, just…let me change into something better than jeans and a sweat shirt." I wasn't all that much into girly things, therefore color coordination wasn't my thing. "Mind helping me pick out…something?" Surely this wasn't some formal setting dinner, but first impressions mean a lot, especially in the wrestling business. Reby nodded, following me into my hotel room. I picked up my duffle bag, placing in on the edge of the bed. I unzipped the bag, pulling out some clothes, before I finally pulled out a simple black dress, about an inch of lace on the bottom of the dress. It really pointed out my curves.

"Put it on and I'll judge how you look from there." Reby laughed, "It's a cute dress though. Where'd you get it?" She asked, curious.

"I actually got it from Deb, on the clearance rack. Originally it was 100 dollars, but I got it for 20 dollars instead. I really couldn't pass it up." I added, reaching the bathroom. I shut the door, slipping my clothes off, kicking them to beside the shower. Reby must've said something, but I couldn't really hear her. Stripped down to nothing but a black Victoria's Secret push up bra and black thong, I slipped the dress on. I posed in front the mirror for a split second, placing my hands on my hips. My hands adjusted my boobs, making sure they looked _just right_ in this dress. Satisfied with how the dress looked, I grabbed my brush that was laying adjacently on the counter next to the sink, bringing them up to my dark brown locks, brushing through my mane. Taking one last look into the mirror, I finally re-opened the bathroom door and back out into the room. Reby was looking out the hotel window at the city's skyline as my voice broke her concentration, "How's this look?" I simply asked.

She turned around, "You look fucking hot!" She exclaimed, grinning. She then pointed out the sleeve tattoo adorning my right hand. It was filled with skulls, various sayings/quotes/lyrics, and just meaningful things. "I didn't know you had a sleeve tattoo. Looks sweet!"

"Thank you. And yeah, I just got this done last month, actually. Took forever to figure out what I wanted, but eh. I love it. Tattoo's are addicting, you know that?" I laughed, before reaching into my bag, pulling out two pairs of high heel shoes. One pair was black, the other was hot pink. "What shoes should I wear?"

"I know, I have a few tattoos myself. Not as big as yours is, though." I held up one shoe of each pair as Reby chose. "I think you should wear the black ones. Classy look." I nodded, taking a seat on the bed, putting both shoes on. I grabbed my phone and purse, slipping my hotel card-key into an open compartment on the inner part of my purse, then exited the hotel room with Reby by my side. Who knew her and I of all people would be getting along so far? She was a total sweetheart, though.

Venturing on out to the chilly Chicago air, a few wrestling fans straggled along the two of us. One of them actually knew my name. He was a young, maybe 20 year old fan. "Nicole!" He shouted, walking up to Reby and I. I turned around to face the man, "Oh my God! I'm like, your biggest fan!" I smiled. I used to say that about my top favorite wrestlers in the business, namely Lita and AJ Styles. Now that I've met the both of them and have become pretty good friends with them, especially AJ Styles, it was great feeling knowing how far I've actually come in this business.

"Aw, well that's good. I'm glad I actually have fans." I really didn't know what to say. Truth is, there was still part of me that thought I was nothing special. But to these wrestling fans, you're like God himself at times.

"Of course you have fans!" He added, pulling out a PWI magazine where I, surprisingly, was on the cover. "Can you sign this?"

He asked, his hands shaking as he inched closer to me. "No need to be nervous, sweetheart." I nodded, accepting the fact that I'd sign his magazine. That's one thing I'll never understand about some wrestlers. They have the audacity to act like complete fucking douche bags and not sign things for people even though the fans are the reason that we are famous? Made no sense. The fan handed me a silver colored sharpie, "And what's your name?" I asked, merely inches away from the sharpie hitting the cover of the magazine. His name is Daniel. I grinned, pressing the pen against the thick magazine, singing in cursive, _'Nicole Jones, The Hardcore Sweetheart! Xox, thanks for the support!' _Daniel was gracious, then asked for a picture. Reby stood off to the side, smiling. Another fan joined in shortly thereafter, asking Reby for an autograph and picture. Reby gladly accepted as well. I stood next to Daniel, gently wrapping my arms around his frame as he held his camera out. I put on the best smile I could as the flash went off. "Be sure to post that on Twitter and tweet me with it. I'll follow you." I added, his face was beet red now. He was still shaking, purely nervous. But he managed to say thank you and complimented on how hot I looked. At that remark, I laughed. I knew I looked good, and compliments always were charming.

As the two fans were satisfied with meeting us, they walked by back to the parking lot to find their cars, I assume. Reby and I continued walking, chatting about various things before we finally reached the bar/club the entire DGUSA roster was set to be at…at least the nice crop of the roster, anyway.

Entering the bar, the first thing I noticed was the bar filled with various whiskey's, vodka bottles, and a ton of beer. Every stool was taken by various men and women, and the two bartenders behind the counter were busy whipping up drink orders. Man, am I glad that I no longer have to bartend; the bar that I worked in while living in Minnesota was run by a typical douche bag owner. No overtime, no drinking on the job (even though time and time again us female's would be bought drinks), and most definitely, no breaks longer than 15 minutes EVEN though our shifts would be over 7 hours. It was whatever. I only worked as a bartender during the week and wrestled on the weekends, but now that my independent wrestling career was taking off, I didn't need that shit job anymore.

We finally reached the corner of the restaurant where everyone on the roster was. And by everyone, that included Jon Moxley and Trina. I turned to face Reby, glaring at her. Not that I was mad at her, but I just didn't feel like running into those two again. Reby turned to me, whispering in my ear, "I didn't invite them. It was probably that chick sitting next to them. Valery is her name." Oh, the girl in all black that reassured me that nothing happened to my clothes… Whatever, that was behind us. Why waste time on the subject. The majority of the roster turned as Reby belted out, "Hey everyone! This is Nicole, the new girl here." I raised my hand up, waving awkwardly again. All eyes were on me.

Jon looked up, as did Trina, and Val, to me. I looked around at the roster, before my eyes met with Jon's. He picked up his drink, downing the rest of it. The look on his face was priceless, to be quite honest. He's with some chick that has fake tits and chokes on dick for a living. Yet, if he was a nice person, he could've ended up with a girl like me. All natural, great wrestler, and a total sweetheart. My eyes shifted along Trina and Val's eyes, they were disgusted. They managed to talk amongst themselves, probably about me, but I knew they were just jealous.

A bunch of people on the roster all chimed in giving me a warm welcome. I smiled, "Thank you, everyone." Reby grabbed my forearm to drag me to the two open seats on the opposite end of the table away from Trina, Val, and Jon. I sat down, crossing my legs at the ankles. Sitting next to me was Chris Hero; I met him briefly in CZW.

"Damn, you clean up real good!" He laughed, his breath laced with whiskey.

A laugh exited my mouth, "Thank you. How have you been, Chris?" I asked, placing both of my hands on the table.

"I've been good; welcome to Dragon Gate. It's good to see you here. You'll fit in great." Chris picked up his drink, taking a quick swig, then added, "How's your, uh, nose?" His facial expression filled with concern.

"It's fine. I think when my face hit the canvas, I didn't turn my head properly."

Chris leaned in to whisper, "It's technically Jon's fault. He should've had his elbow placed properly to protect your head as a whole. From what I've heard, he feel real guilty about it."

I sucked, not really wanting to talk about the whole situation now. "Oh, I see." I honestly had no idea what else to say at that. Any man can put their hands on a woman, say they're sorry, but they're bound to do it again. "I'm going to get a drink." I pushed my chair back, exiting the table. My purse hung on my forearm as I headed towards the bar. A few stools were now empty, so I took a seat at one. "I'll take two shots of whiskey." The bartender nodded as he turned to grab two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"One of those shots better be mine." That Midwestern laced, groggy voice caught me off guard again. It was Moxley. Yet again. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. But turned around; he was standing behind me, his hands in his pocket. The bartender placed two shot glasses in front of me, and before I could say anything to Jon, he began to speak, "I just wanted to apologize for what happened to you. I don't apologize much, so take that into consideration." I couldn't help but scoff and laugh lightly to myself as my hands dug into my purse. Jon placed his left hand on top of mine as his right hand dug out 10 bucks from his own pockets. "This should cover a few more drinks. Make that four shots, will ya? Keep the change."

Oh, so buying drinks for me is supposed to cover your tracks there, bud? It was nice that he apologized personally to me, though. I figured I'd suck it up and do the same, "Well, thanks. And, uh, sorry I slapped you earlier." He shrugged it off, swaying his hand like there was no issue. The bartender placed a total of 8 shot glasses in front of us, filling them to the brim with icy whiskey.

"Here's your drinks." The bartender smiled, before placing the bottle of whiskey down, then shifting his attention to the other customers.

Jon didn't waste any time grabbing the nearest shot glass to him, then used his other hand to grab one for me. I took the drink, pouring it into my mouth. It burned; whiskey was a strong concoction. Jon did the same, but drank it with no issues. Before you knew it, we each had 4 shots of whiskey and were just starting to feel giddy and buzzed. Jon eventually sat down next to me in the bar stool, we didn't talk much, just a few things we already knew.

After a bit of silence, "Dance with me." Jon belted out, standing up, grabbing my hand.

"I can't fucking dance." I tried to argue against his words, but he wasn't having any of it. He pulled my body out to the dance floor as Get Busy by Sean Paul played throughout the club. On the verge of being drunk, I couldn't really fathom what exactly was happening, but just went with the flow. Soon enough, I found myself dancing. He was behind me, grinding against my ass. But still, I went with the flow and, really, I was drunk and didn't care at this point. My ass grinded against his groin, going with the beat. Jon's hands wrapped around my hips, tugging at me, almost like he didn't want me to leave. The dance floor was filled with smoke, a slew of people were now dancing amongst themselves. Bright neon lights flashed throughout. I closed my eyes, going with the beat to the song.

Towards the end of the song, Jon whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Must've been the lyrics to the song or something, I couldn't tell. My vision was sort of blurred, all I seen was smog and neon lights. Get Busy by Sean Paul came to a close, and I turned around to face Jon. As the last bit of lyrics faded out, Jon said them word for word, "Let's get it on 'til the early morn. Girl it's all good, just turn me on." A laugh followed his slurred words. I managed to shake my head no, wanting to head back to the table where the rest of the roster, but he cupped my face, planting his lips against mine.

What in the fuck was going on? We were both drunk…or well, at least I was. I'm only 21, Dean's 25, so I'm sure he's used to drinking and partying on regular basis. I, however, rarely ever drink that much. Last time I did was nearly a year ago, a few days before my 21st birthday. I was experimenting, wanting to know just how long it'd take before I got drunk, and well…let's just say… it didn't take long. Experimenting with alcohol is something I most definitely do not recommend. I was puking left and right the next morning, and let me tell you, Jack Daniels doesn't taste good coming back up. It burns like acid coming back up.

Alas, the song shifted into another rap song, which I can't quite recall the title of it. My thoughts were as cloudy as the dance floor. Jon's lips were pressed against mine for maybe 10 seconds before he pulled away. I managed to ask, my words slurred of course, "What was that for?" His hands were wrapped around my waist tightly, he pulled me in closer, which caused me to wrap my own arms around his neck. The tips of my fingers tugged at the back of hair, beads of sweat freshly formed on the back of his neck, too. I have to admit, even though my vision was blurry, the grungy look on Jon looked extremely attractive. Not that I'd be brave enough to admit it of course. At least not right now.

Before I could say anything else, Jon leaned in to kiss my lips once more. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I just couldn't stop. His kisses were so tender, so sweet. The soft lips of his massaging against mine. Things led to the next and before I knew it, he was slipping his tongue into the kiss, it wrestling against my own. As much as I tried to pull away, I couldn't. He kept his arms wrapped around me as we stood there awkwardly making out on the dance floor. Music filled the packed bar and dancing area.

As another song began to blare, Jon pulled away from my lips, viciously grabbing my forearm before I could ask any question and immediately taking me to exit doors in the back of the building. Just as we reached the doors, I asked, "Where are we going?" As he flew the doors open, the chilly air immediately hit my hot skin, and it felt so good. Jon didn't even answer my question, he just kept walking, still having a tight hold of my forearm. "Jon, stop." I begged, trying to pull back. "Please, stop. Jon." He turned around, pushing me back up against the brick building neighboring the bar that we just exited out of. "Jon, you're drunk, just st-"

Jon pressed his index finger against my lips, and I shut up. He whispered against my cheek, pecking along with each breath he took, "I've never wanted a woman as bad as I want you." Jon's lips moved down from my cheek, to my neck, his lips pressing against my hot skin. I sucked in a deep breath, closing my eyes as his kisses were getting harder and harder.

"Jon, please." I placed my hands on his shoulders, "You have a girlfriend. Don't do anything you're going to regret." Jon's hands trailed along every inch of my body, starting at my boobs, then down my hips before he pulled them away, beginning to unbuckle his pants.

"That bitch isn't my girlfriend. She's just a whore that sucks my dick from time to time."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, I'm out of here. Let me go." I sure as hell did not want to be his second source of fucking. And, to be quite frank, as cute as he was, I didn't want to find myself with a guy like him. He clearly didn't know what not to say to women and the fact that he just admitted that Trina is his go to dick sucking girl threw me off.

I eventually got away from his grasp after about 6 seconds of struggling against his grasp, but the back doors to the club opened and Jon ducked down, hiding behind a dumpster. In the distance, I could hear two females chit-chatting amongst themselves.

"Where did he go?" The first woman asked.

The second woman, "Fuck, how would I know? I swear, if he's out with that sewer rat bitch Nicole, I'm going to kill him." Oh, it's Trina and Val. Go figure. I turned my eyes over to Jon, he looked over at me, glaring in my direction.

"You're a dumbass." I whispered to him. He shook his head, laughing. Eventually Val and Trina walked back into the club, not seeing Jon and I within their sights. _Thank God_. As soon as the door closed, I exhaled a sigh of relief, "Now, really. Let me go." Jon, without a struggle, stood to his feet. I stood up, beginning to walk back into the club.

"I'll be waiting for you, Nic." Jon stated. I just continued walking, shrugging it off like he said nothing. Clearly my balance was off, 'cause I couldn't walk a straight line, but I managed to find my way back into the club. The sound of music, chatter, and glasses chiming against the counter filled my ears once more. Within my vicinity I saw Reby on the dance floor, along with Christina.

"Holy shit, where have you been?" Reby belted out. She saw my hair was messy.

Fuck, what do I say? "I was, uh, trying to dance."

"How many drinks have you had?" Christina asked, seeing my balance was off.

I shrugged, "I had…uh…6...no…7? Uh, 8. I think." Suddenly I blacked out. I collapsed into Christina's arms, completely passed out.

"Shit. She's out." Christina called out, catching me before my face hit the hard floor. Reby picked me up off of Christina, "Why is her neck all red?" I could hear their muffled voices talking about me, but honestly, I couldn't focus enough to reply.

On our way out of the club, all I can recall was puking on the sidewalk a few times. Jesus, my first night in Dragon Gate USA has been more then just chaotic. It was filled with lust, madness, and drunk fests. All of it was rolled into one night. Quite frankly, it was too much for me to handle in one night.


	4. The Calm Before

**A/N: **Yeah, I know… I had chapter's four and five up previously, but I hated how those chapters turned out. I don't want Jon and Nicole rushing into things. Thus, here's a much better re-written chapter four. Thanks for all the reviews thus far, guys! (:

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You ever woke up one morning, literally not having a clue what happened the night before? I couldn't remember much. And, quite frankly, judging on how horribly my head throbbed at this instant, I really didn't care to. Last thing I saw, even though my vision was blurred, was Christina and Reby. Then I blacked out. Somehow, I managed to end up in my hotel room, laying on top of the comforter, my skin soaked in sweat. My black dress smelled like pure sweat, mixed with whiskey, and topped off with a light layer of puke. How lovely; last night I looked fucking hot, but now I looked like I crawled off a drinking binge with Snooki and Deena from the Jersey Shore. Taking a moment to take in everything, I finally got up to a vertical base. My legs were like Jell-O for a split second, nearly causing me to fall over as I stumbled into the white, tiled bathroom. Slipping out of my dress, removing it and throwing it to the side, followed by my black Victoria's Secret bra and thong, I turned the shower up to the hottest it could go, steam immediately building up, clouding the mirror. Before stepping into the shower, I tilted my head back, taking in some deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. I stepped into the shower, the hot water splashing against my bare back. Grabbing my Victoria's Secret 'Pure Seduction' body scrub, I scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to wash away the memory of what happened last night, especially scrubbing away at the hickeys adorning my neck. And the handprint on my forearm; yeah, that had to go. No matter how hard I scrubbed, it didn't disappear what so ever. After a bit of mindless scrubbing at my arm and neck I gave up and grabbed my shampoo and conditioner, scrubbing my brunette locks, filling the air with the sweet scent of coconut. Ah, my two favorite scents, Pure Seduction by Victoria's Secret and coconut. Yum! The water cascaded down onto my skin, rinsing my entire body off until every ounce of soap was gone from my body, the water dwindling down into the tub ran clear.

I stepped out of the shower after turning the water off, grabbing a towel as white as snow. "What wonderful fucking adventures does life have in store for me today?" I whispered to myself, walking to the steamed mirror, seeing a blurred reflection of my self. My hands reached outward, grabbing my tube of toothpaste and toothbrush. I scrubbed my pearly whites, my mouth filling with mint foam, washing away the after taste of stale whiskey vomit.

After finishing up in the bathroom, brushing my hair and teeth, I stepped back over to my bed, grabbing my duffle bag. I really sucked at choosing outfits. Not just because my color coordination sucked, but I could never fully decide on what to where. I was split on two outfits. The first one: faded ripped jeans, holes throughout the knees near my things, a pair of Converse tennis shoes, a cut up t-shirt with a double layer of mesh (like what Lita used to wear, yeah), and a layered bracelet. Or I could go the opposite route and step out in the same ripped jeans, knee-high high heel boots, and a low cut top. It was times like these where I literally hated being a female. So indecisive.

To choose the outfit, I flipped a coin. Heads, outfit one. Tails, outfit two. Pulling a quarter out from my purse, I threw it up into the air, it landing on the light colored floor.

Heads.

Outfit one it is.

I really didn't take much time doing my hair. While it was damp grabbed some curling hair gel, crimping my hair in between my hands. My hair took forever to dry, so I didn't even think of wasting my time on pulling out the tiny hair dryer the hotel accommodated in the bathroom. Instead I'd let it dry naturally. It'd dry, giving my hair beautiful waves. Nothing too flashy. After my hair was done, I reached for my make up bag. I grabbed foundation, covering my face up with that first, then powdered mascara, and eventually focused on my eyes. Grabbing my purple eye shadow, followed by a small area of black eye shadow, then some black eyeliner lining my brown eyes with it, and topping it off with a coat of mascara. I wasn't into lipstick or lip gloss, so yeah. I strayed away from that.

I grabbed my bag, filled with wrestling gear, then my purse and headed out into the hotel's hallway, heading to the elevators. I kept to myself, hoping not to get noticed. By fans, yeah, that was totally cool. By hoping to not get noticed, I meant by not any wrestlers or any sort of people that saw me collapsing in the club. Fuck, I didn't even want to pull out my phone to Google myself and see if there was any photos or stories on the "dirt sheets." That'd be the ultimate embarrassment and the cherry on top of one fucked up night.

Can getting plastered be considered fun? Cause this headache wasn't cute.

Eventually reaching the lobby, I headed towards the entrance doors. It was a foggy, chilly spring morning here in Chicago, Illinois. Before I stepped out into the chilly air I opened my wrestling bag, pulling out my favorite hoodie…granted it was stained in some areas with blood, it was still wearable. The pink UFC logo outlined with a baby pink color. Ah, yes. I loved this sweatshirt. And I'm not even a huge fan of the color pink. The sweatshirt was a gift from my dad, so of course I had to love it. That and I adored UFC.

Anyway, once I had the sweatshirt on I stepped out into the foggy air, the smells of dew filling my nose. I really didn't know my way around town yet, but I had some time to kill. The last thing I wanted to do was get lost in this huge fucking city, so as I continued to walk, reaching a main street, I flagged down a Taxi. "Take me to," Jesus, think. What was the one thing I've wanted to do since coming here? Eat. Chicago. Pizza. I finally remembered, "Ian's Pizza, please." The driver nodded. I sat down in the back, silent. The driver kept trying to make small talk, but my head was throbbing still. I needed to eat something…never the less I answered his questions, using as little vocabulary as possible in each sentence, acting as if I speak minimal English. It worked, he finally gave up.

I whipped out my cell phone, tweeting, "Chicago! It's my second day here. Let's make the most of it, shall we? CMPunk, your GTS pizza had better not suck." CM Punk fans were like leeches. They tweeted me, acting as if I was with the man or if I was related some how, or the lovely, "OMG YOUR DATING HIM" shit. I laughed, indirectly tweeting about their ignorant assumptions, "Yeah. I'm not related to CMPunk, dating him, nor am I hanging out with him. He's too cool for me." A few years back, before CM Punk's notorious career in the WWE took off, back when he was in ECW, I actually had the pleasure meeting Mr. Punk. He pointed out the tattoo's on my arm, now a sleeve, and complimented it. From there, we chatted about music, argued about political views, and the end of our conversation consisted of food. He was someone I considered a good friend; we argued like brother and sister, but meshed well together like peanut butter and jelly.

Consumed in twitter, my concentration was interrupted by the taxi driver, "We're here, ma'am." I looked up, seeing the large sign 'Ian's Pizza' in front of the car. I pulled out 15 bucks, handing it over to the driver, then exited the taxi, walking in to the restaurant. Scents of garlic, onions, fresh crust, and other foods filled my nostrils. Man, the food - all of it - looked delicious.

I walked up to the counter, "I'll take a GTS pizza, please."

"That'll be 10 bucks," I pulled out a crisp 10 dollar bill, handing it over to the clerk. She went to hand me my change, "You're a wrestler, aren't you?" She studied my face for a split second.

I nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I am."

"Oh, you're here for Dragon Gate aren't you? I'll be going to the show tonight with my boyfriend and brother. We'll be front row!"

"That's awesome. I'll high five you if you put extra cheese on my pizza." Laughing, I adjusted the strap on my duffle bag, it started to become uncomfortable resting on one shoulder for too long. "It'll be a fun show."

The clerk laughed, prepping my pizza, "How's your nose?" I shrugged like it was no big deal. "Jon is a real douche bag."

I nodded, getting used to that word being associated with that man, "Yeah. He is." I really hated judging someone just by what people say, but in the sake of wrestling and keeping people interested, I played along with her, "I'll be getting retribution soon. Might be tonight. Might be tomorrow. Hell, might even be next week," I paused shifting my weight, "I'll be getting revenge, you can count on that."

The clerk laughed. "Well, thanks for keeping me invested. I'll be seeing you tonight. But for now, I have to go scrub the floor in the back. Yay me."

I remembered those days, scrubbing the floors of Dairy Queen. "I feel your pain." I chuckled, "I'll see you later than, ma'am."

Well, that was an easy, nice conversation. After waiting a bit longer I was given my pizza and took a seat near the windows, chowing down on a few pieces, looking out the window, taking a gander into the Chicago streets.

This was the calm before the storm.

My stomach knotted up at the though. As soon as I'd enter that fucking arena, I'd be slandered, attacked, and questioned as to what happened between Jon and I. It honestly wouldn't surprise me if Jon bragged about how he was able to mess around with me. He seemed that like _that _type of guy. The one you're supposed to hate, but one you can't keep away from.

He's a mystery, that's for sure. A different breed. I dug that part about him, that and he wasn't afraid to be himself. But people keep associating him with the word douche bag…maybe he's just misunderstood?

I don't know.

Suddenly I couldn't eat anymore. My stomach nodded up from nerves and I had to leave. Or were those butterflies?

Jesus Christ, Nicole. Lighten up! I thought to myself, feeling vulnerable over nothing. Make out sessions happen all the time in bars, so why was I feeling so guilty? So nervous? Jon was the one that bought me four shots of whiskey…I think? See how much I could remember from last night?

Fuck. My own story was twisted as to what happened last night, I couldn't remember hardly anything. Not even how many drinks I actually had. Was this his plan? To toy with me, get me drunk to the point where I couldn't remember a damn thing, then when questioned by Trina, have my story be fucking twisted which will lead me to get attacked…_again_?

I was so lost. My head throbbing even more.

_I am fucked._


	5. Cryptic

**A/N: **This is slightly inspired by an episode of Sons of Anarchy. Muahaha. ;D Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews on this story. Again, I'm glad everyone's enjoying it so far! xo

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As I entered the Dragon Gate arena, my heart immediately sunk. I had this gut feeling that something was looming over everyone's heads. Sucking in a few breaths as I reached the hallway, my immediate thoughts were stuck on last night. What if Jon was bragging to everyone, spreading rumors around that I'm a floozy? After all, I had only been here a day and already I had nearly broke my nose (that was Jon's fault, though), already being thrusted into a feud with Trina Michaels, AND I got drunk last night and made out with Jon…

Reaching the women's lockerroom door, I placed my hand on the gold, icy knob. A voice down the hall to my left called out, "Nicole, hey!" It wasn't a voice I recognized, but I turned to my left, a little stunned. It was Larry, who was head of the management team. I put on a smile almost instantly, "I wanted to run down the show for you tonight, if that's alright?" I nodded, of course. "You're going to put on a promo," As soon as the word promo came out of his mouth all I thought of was how mediocre, if that, my promos were, "Trina, Jon, and Val will come out try and make amends, but you'll ultimately be attacked by Trina and Val. Jon, if it was alright with you he said that he'd like to put you through a table. Rough you up a bit." Wait, he was wanting to know if something would be okay with me? My permission? What? I really didn't know what to think.

"I guess that's fine. I mean," Suddenly I was cut off, he told me the full detail of what Jon wanted to do.

"He wants to pile drive you through a table, on the outside."

Suddenly a look of worry came over my face, "A pile driver? Shouldn't that be saved for, like, a match later on?"

"I don't know, I thought the same, but he really wants to feud with you." Larry paused, shifting his own weight. "If you go through the table, Jimmy Jacobs will come out for the save, calling for help. All that stuff. Tomorrow, you'll get on the mic again to set up a match for later in the night, teaming with Jimmy to take on Jon and Trina in an intergender match."

Well, that sounded alright to me. Going through a table was something people rarely seen anymore. It wasn't that I was afraid to go through a table, but a pile driver was something that petrified me. You could land wrong and be paralyzed or the person executing the move could position you wrong, which you could end up being paralyzed or seriously injured from that. I sucked in a deep breath, "Sure, I'll do that."

"Awesome, I'll go tell him you're up for it." Larry nodded, walking away.

I finally opened the Women's lockerroom door, heading directly for the wooden bench to place my bag on it. Reby and Christina were in there, immediately hovering over me as soon as I walked in. Then I remembered that they were the ones that I last saw before I blacked out last night.

"Uh, hey." I didn't even look up to look them directly in the face. I knew they'd start throwing assumptions out there.

"So…what happened last night? You skipped out on dinner, never returned from getting your drinks." Reby asked, standing to my left. Even then I didn't lift my head to look at her and explain.

"Nothing happened. At least I don't think anything happened." I lied a little. I remembered hardly anything at all.

"Bull shit. As soon as you left to get a drink, Jon got up and headed in the same direction as you." Reby snapped a little, but in a joking 'I know what you did' tone.

Finally turning my attention to her, "The last thing I remember was him and I dancing together. That's it." Again, I lied. We did kiss, but I wasn't about to break that news to Reby or Christina.

"Like, dirty dancing?" Christina laughed.

"Yeah. Two people that can't dance for shit. We probably looked like fucking idiots on that dance floor." A laugh followed, almost like a sigh of relief.

"Trina wasn't happy. You should've seen her face when Jon got up to follow you. Oh, God. It was priceless." Reby grinned at the thought.

I grabbed my makeup bag from my purse, conversating with Reby and Christina, "I bet she wouldn't be happy."

Christina spoke up once more, "She's clearly jealous of you."

"Jealous of me?" I couldn't help but laugh again. Like stated previously, I have no talent what so ever, other than my passion for wrestling.

"You have class, a big heart, love and passion for wrestling." Christina paused for a brief second to flip the tables, pointing out Trina's faults, "She has tits and ass. That's all she has going for her. She won't last in this business, especially when Jon goes on to bigger and better things."

I stopped in my tracks, "What do you mean bigger and better things?"

"There's some rumors going around that he's been in contact with WWE. He'll have to wait for his contract with Dragon Gate USA, Evolve, and CZW to come to a close in a year and a half though, but last I heard, he's on the verge of singing with them." To be honest, I frowned a little. I barely knew this guy, but he's a different breed; he sucked people in with his wrestling ability, promos…and, if the real Jon is what he was on the dance floor whispering in my ears, despite Reby and Christina calling him a douche bag, he had a soft spot. "And don't go off thinking you're nothing special, Nicole." Christina pointed her finger at me. I stepped back a little taken back, "You're going to be a big star one day. Hell, you already have a huge fan base that is growing daily, especially since you've signed with Dragon Gate. Don't act like you're nothing special."

Just the pep talk I needed. "Every wrestler is special in their own way, though, Christina." I corrected her, not wanting to be naïve or take all the credit. However you'd put it. "Like I'd fit in with the Divas. Please."

"Yeah, like Jon would fit in with the WWE? He's ruthless, violent, and psychotic." Christina pointed out.

"Can't forget douche bag." Reby chimed in. I kind of glared at her; continually associating that word with him.

"He isn't a douche bag, Reby!" I spoke up, defending Jon.

Reby was sort of stunned, "Oh, he isn't? How would you know this?" She asked, acting as if she knew.

But then I remembered…I was drunk as fuck last night. And then it hit me. I remembered it. Jon and I made out. Grinded up against each other. Almost fucked in the back alley way (even though I didn't want to, trying to push him away.)

"I knew something more happened, Nicole!" Reby placed her hands on her slender hips, looking over to Christina, then me. Shit, my covers blown.

"Okay, okay. What happened was - and no, we didn't fuck or anything - we grinded up against each other together on the dance floor, drank 4 shots of whiskey each, made out, and then he took me outside," Shit, what do say about the outside part? "For a breather. It was hot and stuffy in the club, so we stepped outside for a bit to cool down. That's all. Happy?"

I placed the makeup bag on the counter near the sink, pulling out my eyeliner to touch up on it.

"You kissed him? Was he a good kisser?"

Annoyed at their questions, I rolled my eyes. "Yep." I finally shifted the subject, feeling that I was dishing out too much, telling them that I had to meet with Larry. Truth is, I wanted to go find Jon. "Shit!" I exclaimed, "I forgot to go meet with Larry. I'll be back." I threw my eyeliner back in the makeup bag, exiting the women's lockerroom in a hurry.

Once out in the halls, I searched for Jon's locker room. Finally, there it was, the door closed. I knocked lightly three times, twiddling my thumbs. The door opened…and it was Trina. Ugh. Great.

"Oh, there's the slut I was looking for." She laughed, standing in the door frame. "I'm busy warming Jon up. You can join if you'd like." My mind jumped to numerous conclusions as to how she was 'warming him up' and immediately shook my head.

"No. I wanted to talk to Jon." I stated, sounding as legit as possible.

"What makes you think Jon wants to talk to YOU?" She suddenly stood on the tips of her toes, nose to nose with me.

"Get out of my face." I glared, stepping even closer to her. I've dealt with bitches of all trades, but she topped them all. I hadn't even been in DGUSA for a week and we already had a rivalry amongst the two of us.

The door opened immediately, Jon emerging from behind Trina, putting his 'Explicit Mox Violence' shirt on, already in his wrestling trunks. "Trina, go get me a water." He demanded of her, shooing her out of my face. She walked off to the catering area. "What do you want?"

"Not much." Things were awkward between us. At least for me. Didn't seem to be for Jon, though. "I just wanted to ask if Larry spoke to you?" Jon nodded.

"Yeah, you're cool with the pile driver thing, right?" I nodded. "Cool. I haven't done that to a woman yet." I laughed lightly, taking a few steps back. There was this awkward, sexual tension amongst the two of us. "Don't worry, I haven't told anyone." It was like he read my mind. Trina suddenly walked in, stepping in front of Jon, causing me to step back farther.

"You can leave now." I glared down at her for a few seconds before I finally left, getting out of her face.

I really don't get why, if Jon hates Trina so much, why stick with her? Why? She didn't bring any notable value to the ring. What was so special about her? Like Christina said, all Trina brought to Dragon Gate was a set of tits and ass, which people had seen time and time again on her porn videos.

As I headed back to the Women's locker room, my pocket suddenly vibrated. It was my iPhone. I pulled it out, seeing that I had a new text message to read.

**I hate seeing you go, but I love watching you leave. **It read, I stopped in my tracks. The fuck was this text about? Who was it from? I replied with a simple question. **Okay, but who are you? **Seconds later, a reply popped up.** Your new favorite guy. **My heart sunk again. Was it Jon? **Seriously, who is this? **It took a bit longer than usual for the person to reply, but finally a new messaged popped up. **The man you're bound to be with, whether you like it or not**. Okay, things were getting weird. Who is sending me these cryptic, questionable texts? Like that last wasn't creepy at all. I reached the Women's locker room, still trying to figure out what to say to the text. I sat down on the wooden bench next to my bag, typing into the phone. **How am I bound to be with someone if I don't even know who you are? Please tell me who this is. **A reply popped up again. **I love you, Nicole. You're perfection. You are beautiful. You're everything I want. **Okay, things were getting creepier and creepier. I started to really freak out. This couldn't be Jon. He wouldn't hide behind creepy text messages to confess feelings. He was much more bold and brash than that from what I've heard and seen so far. I really didn't know how to respond to it, so I opted for the high road, ignoring it. I threw the phone in my bag, seeing as it was 10 minutes to go time. I'd be opening the show, so I had to head to the entrance area.

I exited the women's locker room, heading to the entrance area. Before I knew it, it was time for me to open up the show with a segment. The last creepy text messages I had received threw me for a loop, so I hadn't had much time to prepare on what to say. Off the fly, I guess.

My music hit (Out of Control by Hoobastank) the arena speakers, a slew of cheers, whistles, and a bunch of fans standing. I made my entrance, high fiving some eager fans in the front row area. Since I hadn't properly debuted, I figured I'd open the segment up with some plans I'd like to get accomplished in DGUSA. Grabbing a microphone, my theme died out as did the crowd, the majority anyway. Bringing the microphone to my lips, I spoke out, "How's Chicago doing tonight?" A loud round of cheers and applause followed. "Hot crowd, Chicago. Thanks for the warm welcome." I paused for a brief moment, "Now let's get down to business. I'm new here in Dragon Gate, I get that. And it might be a little too far into the future but my ultimate goal here is to make women's wrestling relevant again. My time in CZW was just the start of a women's wrestling revolution." The crowd cheered, enjoying what I had to say. Let's face it, take a look at the WWE Divas and TNA Knockouts. What was the main aspect of those two divisions: model look. Some female wrestlers on their rosters could actually wrestle and hold their own, but the ones that really were in the title picture or were adored by the crowd couldn't cut a promo or execute wrestling moves to save their lives. And that's where I stepped in; that's why I was so different. "My next mission is to-" before I could even continue, Jon Moxley's theme hit the arena. I immediately glared at the entrance area as Jon came strolling out with a microphone in hand.

Fuck, my promo was about to be shot down when up against his speaking abilities. "Nicole, Nicole…" He stepped into the ring, capturing the crowds attention and mine as well. "I'm out here on behalf of Trina, for what happened yesterday. Trina wanted me to apologize on her behalf for taking your bag and filling it with my most prized possessions." Jon grinned from ear to ear in the creepiest way possible, "You know those possessions I'm talking about, don't you doll face?" He suddenly was inches away from me, grabbing the ends of my hair, his hand moving to my face. I backed away, swaying his hand away from me. "You'd look pretty good in a movie, too. What do you say, we go to the back and uh," The crowd cheered, men especially, at every dirty thought entering the heads, "We can make a dirty movie of our own." I looked at him in disgust, eventually slapping the taste from his mouth. "I like 'em feisty!" He suddenly grabbed my forearm, the same one he had grabbed last night at the club. I pulled away, but struggled against a man of muscular stature, "Come on, Nicole. You know you want a piece of Mox." I slapped him again, even more disgusted. He kept his back turned against me for a few seconds, "Alright, it's a new year and I promised not to hit women anymore," He turned to me, grabbing my hair this time around, "But when a slut like you deserves it!" I was bent backwards as Jon was basically screaming in my face, but he eventually let go.

I backed away from him, "Don't hurt me." I tried to plead with him, but his evil eyes glared down at me.

I backed away even farther as Jon was inching closer to me, "Sweet cheeks," I was backed up in the corner, so I didn't have any where to go, especially now that he had me pinned. He sniffed my hair, "I won't hurt you." Jon backed away, as if nothing was wrong. But then it hit me.

Well, they hit me.

Trina had grabbed the back of my hair, standing on the apron, as Val crawled in, kicking my midsection repeatedly. Trina eventually let go of my hair, only to have Val set me up for a wicked Widows Peak - a move famously done by the one and only Tara. I sold the move perfectly, not moving at all as I laid stomach first on the mat as Jon set up a table. Once the table was set up, Jon stood on top of it as Val picked my lifeless body up off the canvas, handing me over to Jon. As Jon set me up for the match, he whispered into my ear, "You'll be okay." He reassured, knowing that I was nervous doing this big move, one that I haven't done through a table yet. Once I was set up to take the piledriver, I heard the crowds anticipation growing. Then bam - the top of my head came crashing down on the table, but Jon made sure I didn't hit it hardly at all. He had me set up to the point where I barely felt anything. I laid there lifelessly in between the broken table, the crowd going nuts. Jon posed over me, his legs spread apart as he bent down slightly, thrusting/humping into the air, garnishing heat from the rowdy crowd.

The crowds boos suddenly shifted in to cheers as Jimmy Jacobs, as scheduled, came charging to the ring. Jon and Jimmy had a hellacious feud going on currently in some other independent promotion, so it made since for him to make the 'save.' Jon, Trina, and Val exited the ring before Jimmy could get his hands on Jon. Jon stood near the entrance area, laughing and grinning as if piledriving me was some huge accomplishment. Jimmy turned his attention to me, kneeling down, yelling out, "Get some help out here!" He screamed, medical staff running to the ring to make the attack look legitimate. Jimmy kneeled down lower, near my ear, "You're doing great, Nic." Apparently I selled moves well. That's good.

The medical staff tended to me, putting me on a stretcher, the whole works. The show continued, but I knew the crowd would be stuck on the subject of what they just saw for the remainder of the show.

I was finally in the back and able to get off the stretcher, heading back to the Women's locker room area.

"Great sell, Nic!" Christina immediately said as I walked in the locker room.

"Thank you." I smiled, thankful for her kind words.

I sat down on the bench, "Where's Reby?"

"She's announcing for the night." Christina stood, leaning against the lockers. "And I have a match in 10 minutes, so you'll be here alone. All the other girls are in catering for whatever reason." I nodded, tucking some brunette locks behind my ear. Christina and I chatted about various things before she headed out to the halls.

Once alone I let out a sigh of relief, then grabbed my phone. Upon turning it on, there was a total of 20 missed calls and 40 fucking text messages. All from that same creep. It couldn't have been from Jon, Trina, or Val. Nor would I think it'd be from anyone on the roster, since I didn't know everyone all that well yet.

I stepped out to the halls, my eyes glued to the messages, reading all 40 messages. My heart raced, and in the midst of being glued to my screen, shaking in my boots, I ran into the man that just pile drove me into a table. Jon Moxley.

I jumped back, "Sorry!" I apologized quickly, in a stunned tone almost.

Jon was downing some icy water, he could see I was shaking. "You alright?" He asked.

"Not really." I bit down on my lip, handing my phone over to him, allowing him to see every text. "You wouldn't know who those would be from, would you?" Jon skimmed over the messages, shaking his head. "It has to be some sick joke. It has to be." I stammered, still shaking.

Jon took a drink of the icy water, downing the remainder of it, throwing the plastic cup into the garbage, "That's fucking weird."

"I know. I'm scared, Jon." Jon handed the phone back over to me. I slid it into my pocket.

"If you want, you can leave the arena with me, Hero, and Cabana if you'd like." Jon suggested.

I still was worried, "But what if this fucker is some creep working at the hotel or something? Waiting in my bathroom to attack or something?" The thought shot my anxiety on the subject through the roof. I breathed heavily, tears beginning to form in my eyes.

Jon shrugged, "I can stay with you, or you can stay with me."

"Your girlfriend Trina, though…" I pointed out, sighing.

"She isn't my girlfriend. Remember, I told you that…last night."

Oh, yeah. "Oh, she's your go-to girl." I sighed again, "Maybe this is just some sick joke. Maybe I'm blowing it out of proportion."

Someone had to say it. Jon would be the one. "You have a fucking stalker. It's quite apparent, Nicole. Either you have me sleep with you tonight or you sleep with me. There's no if's, and's, or but's about it." He ignored the 'go-to girl' remark about Trina, though. Sadly.

"Fine. My room number is 232." Jon nodded, placing his hand on my shoulder for reassurance. "Thanks for being there for me."

He shrugged, "No problem. Just meet me at my locker room door, alright?" I nodded, thanking him again before heading back off to the Women's locker room. My phone buzzing from time to time, but I continued to ignore it.


	6. Make It Count

I continued to ignore the pretty much constant buzzing of my phone, which notified me every time a new phone call or text came through. It was literally almost every 10 minutes it felt, if not sooner, that the phone would be vibrating away in my bag. I'd be lying if I said that it didn't creep me out. If there was a possibility to have a bright side in all of this commotion was that I had people who cared for me. You see, in wrestling the male superstars are _very _protective of their female counterparts, as if they were an older brother. The wrestling business had its fill over drama, always have and always will, but then there's the positive aspects of it all - traveling all around the world, meeting new people and seeing different cultures, living out a childhood dream, and then the kicker was always having the ability to hang out with your closest friends, along with making new friends along the way. With every independent promotion I always ended up making 20 if not more new friends, and always picked up on something. We are all one big, giant family like it or not because we all bond over one thing: wrestling.

Once the show was over, I picked up my bag from the wooden bench in the women's locker room and escaped into the hallways to head to Jon's locker room. I walked up to the door which read 'Jon Moxley' on the upper part of the door and knocked. To my surprise, it was actually Jon who answered the door and not Trina. What a relief. The last thing I wanted to see was her in the midst of all of this. As Jon opened the door, "You ready?" escaped my mouth.

He nodded, "Yeah, Cabana and Chris are waiting in catering." Jon left the door frame, closing the door behind him. "If you're up for it, you can join us for dinner? Just the four of this time."

"Sure, but on one exception." I paused, adjusting my duffle bag's strap that hung on my shoulder, "No alcohol. I'm not in the mood for it tonight." My mind shifted between the stalkerish text I received and last night Jon and I dancing in a bar.

Jon reassured me, "No drinks."

As we were inching closer in the middle of the hallway, I finally stopped Jon. Everything that happened last night was bothering more than it should have. "I think we need to talk about what happened. It's been bothering me, Jon." I paused as Jon stopped in his tracks, then finished up on my reasoning for why him and I needed to talk. "I barely know you, you barely know me. Plus the last thing I want to be known around here is a slut."

Jon laughed. Wasn't exactly the type of reaction I was looking for out of him. I glared as he explained himself, "Trust me, you'll never be classified as the slut around here." He paused for a moment, "That's Trina's job."

Okay, okay. It was bad of me to do this, but I laughed at that remark. I had to. Then my mood shifted a bit, as did my voice, finally digging up the courage to ask something that's been bothering me for the past 24 hours. "Why do you stick with her if you hate her so much?"

As I asked the question, Jon was starting to walk forward, but again stopped, turning around almost fed up with the question I just asked. "It's a simple philosophy. I'm constantly away from home, chicks will come on to me, and then as soon as they find out I'm a wrestler, they assume the worst." Jon shrugged at that fact. I could tell he was used to rejection. "Trina's there to fuck me when I want it. There's nothing more to it than that."

"I really do not understand that philosophy, but whatever." My eyes shifted to the grond, intrigued by his untraditional ways, "Why are you so, uh, different?" There were no other words that I could think of to describe the man standing before me.

Jon came up with a quick answer, "You ask way too man questions."

To be honest, I laughed again. "I know that. You, however, don't answer many questions." A snicker left my mouth, turning the tables back on to Jon again.

Jon was hesitant at first, but told me about his childhood. Just the gist of it, anyway. "My dad wasn't in the picture at all, I don't even know who my father is, and my mom was whore who was addicted to drugs. Hell, she might still be addicted to drugs. Like I care anymore." He wasn't ashamed of his background by any means because he knew that it made him into the person he is today, but he was ashamed of the shit that he had to go through, then look around and see all these nonsensical kids walking around with no source of discipline or the kids that complained about the simplest things. He aided his last sentence with one I'd probably never forget, "I was born a loser, Nicole, but I made myself a winner. I've made a living making people eat their words."

I admired that, truthfully. Rising form the ashes is hard, but Jon was example of having the odds stacked against you or repeatedly having obstacle after obstacle placed in front of him, but managing to break through and prove people wrong, "You're inspiring."

Jon rolled his eyes once more, almost showing a layer of annoyance. The sound of disgust was dripping off his tongue at the fact that I used the word inspiring to describe his life story. "The _last _word I _ever _want to be associated with is inspiring."

The small conversation I had with Jon was enough to get my mind off of the creepy, cryptic texts that I had been receiving. My phone buzzed in the midst of our conversation a few times, so it most definitely could not have been Jon.

I began to pull my iPhone out of my pocket and felt Jon's eyes on me; he was annoyed, I could feel it. "Is that fucker still bothering you?" I sighed, starting to go through each message. Before I could read any of them, Jon snatched the phone from my hand. "Fuck this, I'm calling this bastard."

"No, Jon, don't." I tried to take the phone away from him, but he turend his back towards me. I could almost feel anger building and building as he called out to this unknown number. No one picked up. Go figure. I wasn't exactly surprised seeing that no one picked up, but Jon, who was currently muttering obscenities under his breath, handed my phone back over, "What a fucking pussy." He barked, I really didn't know what to say in retaliation.

"I'm creeped out, but I'm not going to let this bother me. I'll be changing my number tomorrow anyway. If things continue after that, I'll file a police report."

"Says the chick that was crying earlier over it."

"You are such a fucking asshole." I was finally starting to understand why people called him a douche bag. Part of me loved that part of Jon, though.

He scoffed, "I know that. And I really do not care."

"I think you do. You say you don't care, but I think you do."

"You think so, huh?" He laughed faintly, "You don't me at all. Don't go off judging me, sunshine."

"I'm not judging you. I'm just stating things as I see it. And what I see in you is a guy that doesn't fit into anyone's mold. You're your own person, I get that, but underneath your grungy look, you seem to big 'ol teddy bear." I paused, "You remind me of my own father, to be honest."

Jon rolled his eyes again, "Nice to know one of us had a father figure in our lives." He said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. He quickly changed the subject, almost as if he did not want to dig deeper into his past, "Well, I'm hungry. Let's go meet up with Colt and Chris."

After some awkward silence among Jon and I, we finally reached the catering area where Chris and Colt were chatting amongst themselves, laughter emerging. As soon as I walked up to them Chris, someone I had always considered a close friend and partially the reason I was a successful female wrestler today, immediately shifted his attention. I heard sympathy roll of his tongue with every word, which must've meant that Jon explained why I'd be leaving with them. "Nicole! You been alright?"

My brown orbs shifted from Chris to Colt, almost embarrassed. "I'm fine. Just a creep constantly texting and calling me. No big deal." Obviously I was being sarcastic, but the way I worded it and the tone in my voice probably wasn't the brightest idea. It came across as me being bitchy.

Chris shrugged, "Alrighty then. I'll take that as a no."

"Can we PLEASE go get something to eat? You 3 can chat all you want then. I'm fucking starving." Jon whined, his tolerance level for the 3 of us was deteriorating and quickly.

Colt finally spoke up, "Chill, bro." All four of us headed for the parking lot area.

The Chicago air was dipping lower and lower. It was colder than most spring nights in the Midwest. My eyes shifted up into the star-filled sky for a split second, admiring the beauty of it. Out in the parking lot Colt pulled out his rental car keys, unlocking the drivers side door. He then pressed the automatic unlock button on the inner side of his car's door, allowing all of us to pile in. The car ride lasted maybe 15 minutes, but it felt like the longest 15 minutes ever. Not only was I exhausted, but I was starving. That GTS pizza I had earlier didn't fill the spot.

"Alright, we're here." Colt explained, pulling into a parking space near the entrance area of the all-night diner. We all catapulted out of the car and walked up to the doors of the restaurant as if it'd be the last meal we'd ever feast upon.

A man, small compared to the 3 muscular men standing beside me, stood behind a booth, greeting us. "Welcome to Bailey's! Would you like a table or booth seat?" We all look at around each other, all agreeing on a booth. More comfortable. "Right this way."

Sitting down on our booth seat, Jon sat on the opposite side of the table from me. Colt sat next to me and Chris sat next to Jon. The waiter placed four menus on the table for us.

"Thank you!" I smiled up at him as he walked off.

"Thank him? For what?" Jon said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Don't act stupid, Jon." I opened up the menu, studying everything. I really had no idea what to choose to eat. Ultimately I opted for a Caesar salad with fresh parmesan cheese and strips of juicy chicken. Colt went for the a side salad with a grilled chicken sandwich, Jon went for a plain cheeseburger, and Chris opted to copy me and go for a salad. We all had water; no alcohol, like Jon promised earlier.

While we all waited for our food to arrive, Jon ultimately asked me a question. "So, Nicole," I perked up a little, folding my arms over my chest, my back resting up against the back of the booth. "Tell us about your lovely sleeve tattoo."

I really didn't know where to begin. Each tattoo had a meaning. "Well, the first piece of this tattoo I got was a quote from my favorite movie, Titanic." I pointed to the quote 'make it count' in beautifully scripted text. Then went down the lines explaining the meaning behind the skull tattoos, stating that I am and always have been infatuated with skulls. I then had stars throughout the sleeve, and ultimately finished it off with a nickname I had as a kid. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. I also recently got this tattoo," I turned my head around, showing them the newest tattoo I got, in reference to CM Punk's '31' tattoo, located behind his ear. I had the same tattoo, same colors and everything. CM Punk and I were not related by any means, but we were like brother and sister. I met him through Colt.

"Yeah, I remember Punk telling me you copied him on that tattoo." Colt grabbed his glass of water, taking a gulp.

I laughed, "Technically I had his permission. Plus, it was his idea. Don't know where he has the idea of me copying him. But okay."

Before we knew it, our small conversation on tattoos shifted to what we thought was right and wrong in the world, sports (which the only sports I watched was wrestling, so I kind of blanked out on that one), and our futures.

"Someday I'd like to be married, have a family maybe, too." Colt nodded, agreeing.

"Yeah, someday I'd like the same."

Jon sort of looked on in disgust, "The only thing I want in the future is less stupidity in the world."

I laughed, "That'd be nice, too."

Chris laughed, "Quite frankly, the one thing I want in the future is a Lamborghini."

Another laugh escaped my lips, "Good luck on that one." I picked up my glass of icy water, taking a drink.

Amongst our chatter, our food arrived. As the time passed, we talked more in the midst of eating. I felt myself bonding more and more with these guys, Colt and Jon especially, since I knew Chris from way back when. Once we were all finished I pulled out my purse, sifting through everything for 10 bucks to put towards the tab. Jon, Chris, and Colt did the same, placing the money on the table.

Colt drove us back to the hotel. I checked the time and it was already 1 o'clock in the morning. We all were staying at the same hotel, different floors though.

Jon and I hung out for a bit in the lobby area, checking out some local flyers plastered on the wall. "Rancid's going to be here in a month!" I exclaimed. They were my first taste of punk rock music growing up. Jon sort of shrugged, not all that excited. At least not as much as I was.

We eventually headed to the elevators, reaching my hotel room. Jon walked in first, making sure there wasn't anyone hiding in there or anything. "Coast is clear." He stated, standing near the large window, looking out to the Chicago skyline.

"Thanks for doing this again, Jon." I closed the door behind me, locking it as well, then threw my bag on the bed, next to his. "There's only one bed. I didn't go into this thinking I'd have a guest here, but whatever."

"That means you'll be the one sleeping on the floor, right?" Jon laughed.

"Uh, no. I paid for this hotel room." I said, playing along. Eventually a sigh flew out of my mouth, "I need to get my mind off this shit." I pulled my phone out again, wanting to call this sick stalker out, but instead threw it on the bed, ignoring it again.

"I can think of a way to get your mind off of it." Jon stated, walking up behind me, groping my stomach, his hands tracing down to the hem of my pants. I got immediate goosebumps up my arms at the view I had, but had to stop myself. I found myself chomping down on my lower lip.

I pulled away, "No, Jon. If you're going to try that shit with me, you'll be asked to leave."

Jon laughed, "I'm just kidding. Calm down." He laughed again, "I am in the mood, though."

It didn't hit me until Jon said that. I hadn't had sex in 6 months. As much as I wanted to give in, I didn't. "Well, I'm not in the mood. Better luck next time." Jon walked over to the closet, grabbing the extra comforter and pillow, making a makeshift bed for himself on the floor. He took his shirt off, followed by his belt. I admired his body for a split second, but returned to sitting on the bed, going through my bag. "I wish you'd open up to me more."

Jon, who was about to sit down on the floor, perked up, "The fuck you mean open up to you?"

"Explain yourself to me a little more."

Jon let out a sigh in annoyance, "I've explained myself to you. I'm not that interesting of a guy. You know more than enough." He brought his hands up, swiping his hair back, "If you want to know more, buy my DVD."

I glared at him again, "I'm really beginning to hate you."

"Just shut up and let me sleep." Jon said, finally on the floor.

"Goodnight." I exclaimed, turning the lamp off on the end table. Then I crawled under the covers, wrapping myself up in the layers of bedding. For a brief moment, I thought about how much I really had learned about Jon. How much I admired him already. Still, I barely knew him still, but I felt this connection to him. I closed my eyes, eventually drifting off to sleep.


	7. Worst Day Ever

The alarm clock in my hotel room went off right at 7:30 AM. I woke up exhausted, not wanting to get out of bed, but whatever. It was something I had to do. Jon sat up from the floor, rubbing his eyes in order to wake up. He groaned a little, annoyed by the buzzing. He must've mumbled something, but I couldn't understand it. For a split second I forgot he was in the room with me, but then reality hit. Never the less, I cracked my neck as I reached to turn the alarm clock off, "Good morning." I yawned, which caused my good morning statement to be a little muffled, stretching my arms outwardly.

"Yeah, yeah." Jon stood up, grabbing the shirt that he took off last night, putting it back on. "I gotta piss."

"Gee, thanks for sharing." I laughed a little, my eyes still adjusting to the light illuminating from the rising sun outside. The skyline was perfect. Jon went into the bathroom to do whatever. I stood up to a vertical stance, stretching once more, then walked over to the window, looking over at the beautiful city skyline. Hard to believe that it'd be my last day here already. Tomorrow was my day off, but it'd be filled with packing for the next weeks show's.

Jon came barreling out of the bathroom door, "Can you hand me my bag?" He asked, the lower part of his body covered by a towel.

I nodded, grabbing his bag. I decided to take the opportunity to flirt, "How bad do you want your bag, Jon?" I pulled away, slowly starting to unzip it.

"God damn it, Nicole. Give me the fucking bag." He was clearly not a morning person. But I didn't care.

I reached into the bag, pulling out his Explicit Mox Violence t-shirt, holding it up to my own chest. "I'd look good in this, don't you think?"

Jon was annoyed, "Yeah, you'd look great. Give me my bag. Now."

He was no fun. I rolled my eyes, folding his shirt back up and putting it back into the bag. "You know this constant up and down emotional roller coaster shit is annoying. One minute you'll be completely nice to me, the next you'll be all pissy."

"I have my reasons." Jon blurted, his voice flat.

"Explain them, then."

"I don't have to explain anything to you."

I couldn't help but fold my arms over my chest, "Can you at least be nice to me? I probably won't see you much until the next set of Dragon Gate tapings."

"Yeah, so?" Jon scoffed.

"I don't know. I've enjoyed the time I've spent with you the last few days, despite you being a total ass the majority of the time."

"That's the problem. Like I told you last night, you assume you know me, but clearly you don't. That's why you and I will never get along or see eye to eye."

With Jon's last statement before he shut and locked the bathroom door, I sighed. What he was saying made sense now. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions too much? I tried to focus my attention on something else, other than Jon, but it was hard. The day just started and it's already started off shitty. I needed to speak with someone, so I reached out to Phil Brooks - known to the world as CM Punk - 'cause I knew that he'd be home today. Grabbing my phone, completely ignoring the batch of unread texts and calls, I looked for Phil's number in my contacts. I called out, it rang a few times, and he eventually picked up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Sorry to call you so early."

"Yeah, you woke me up when I was actually sleeping quite well." Punk said sarcastically…I think. "And on my day off!"

"Sorry." I apologized again. "I just need to talk to you."

"Alright? Is everything okay?"

"It's okay, yeah. Well, I mean…not really."

"What's wrong, Nicole?" Punk asked again.

I sighed, "Apparently I have some stalker on my ass. He, or she, is constantly texting me, calling me. Yet they won't leave a voice mail. I figure, if it's important, why not leave a voice mail? I had a…friend…try and call the number, but no one picked up. Their messages are all…cryptic…it's fucking weird." A sigh escaped my lips once more. I cupped my face in the palm of my free hand, annoyed with this mess.

"Change your number. It's simple." Phil suggested.

"No shit, Sherlock." I laughed lightly. "I'm just telling you incase I end up on the news as a missing person or something." There was no humor in that, but I ended up laughing. "I'm kidding, again. I just know that Maryse - that's her name, right? - was stalked previously. If only I had WWE to back me up with that. Extra security and shit. That'd be nice."

"That's one of the perks WWE has, yes. But the majority of it is bullshit." Phil's tone changed. He was serious. "They keep negotiating a new contract with me. Lucrative perks, or extra pay. Yet they don't seem to grasp what I really want."

I was curious, "What do you want?"

"A microphone. Just me, a microphone, me airing out my annoyances to the 'lovely' WWE Universe." Phil paused for a moment, "Every fan thinks the WWE is this beautiful place…but no one has the balls to call out the WWE for what it really is." He paused again, "And that's where I come in to the picture. Yet WWE doesn't get it. I've declined every contract they've offered me. So, this July, I'll be set to leave."

I wasn't exactly stunned to hear this. In getting to know the man behind CM Punk, Phil Brooks, he was very passionate about everything he did. Wrestling especially. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that, Phil." I heard the shower get turned off, not wanting Jon to hear me speaking to someone else, especially someone in the WWE. Last thing I wanted him to think was me sinking my claws in to a current superstar, trying to pry information or something. "Well, I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have to go. I'll text you." Phil understood, then ended the call with me.

After my call to Punk, I dialed my cell phone company to change my number. As I did that, Jon emerged, his lower torso covered my his jeans, but head no shirt on. Much like last night, I took a gander. I could've swore he was flaunting that about on purpose. A little fun fact about me - a man with a nice body in just jeans was a major turn on… "You really should put a shirt on." I laughed, hearing hold music on the other end.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't act like you do not like what you see, Nicole." Jon said bitterly, reaching down to grab his shirt that was laying on the carpeted floor.

Rolling my eyes, I bit down on my lower lip, "You are such a charmer." Sarcasm was heavy in the tone of my voice.

Jon smirked a little bit, but put his shirt on before heading back into the hotel bathroom. I eventually got on the phone with my a customer service representative and was able to change my number.

"Thank God that mess is over with." I exclaimed, placing the phone the phone next to me on the bed. I perked up, placing my feet on the carpeted ground, stretching.

"Good, that means I can leave, right?"

"Was spending time with me really _that _horrible for you?"

"No, I just hate everyone." His reply made little sense. It was like Jon was avoiding the question all together, much like he was last night.

Honestly, I was annoyed at that point. "You really need to lighten up." Jon shrugged, picking up his bag. Then it dawned on me, "Are you just all pissy at me cause I didn't fuck you last night? Huh? Is that why?"

He shrugged again, "A tad." The words were muttered under his breath, but I picked up on what he said.

"Get over it, Jon. I'm not going to be the skank that you fuck every now and then," I paused for a brief second, the tone and volume in my voice rising, "Unlike Trina-"

Jon finally snapped. He threw his bag down onto the ground in a fit. "This has NOTHING to do with her, Jesus Christ!" I tried to cut him off, but Jon was clearly fed up and angry. "Maybe if you quit sticking your nose into my problems and my personal life, which you know nothing about, I wouldn't have an issue."

"I'm not, Jon. I-" I tried to pipe in again, but he talked over me. Walking closer; tension was on the verge of boiling over at that point.

"No, shut up. I'm talking." I backed up a little, "You have been a thorn in my side ever since Friday night. Constant questions, assumptions…all that bull shit." I backed up even farther, backing against the wall and curtains that covered half the window. He raised his hand at me. I sort of twitched, thinking he was going to hit me, but instead, he pointed to me for a second, "You don't know me, nor do you have the right to sit there and make assumptions. I told you last ngiht that Trina hangs around me for one thing. Sex. That's all it fucking is and all it ever fucking will be." Jon sucked in a deep breath, "What can I say? I'm just a sick fucking guy." Jon turned away, turning his back on me to take a breather, but he turned back around to face me, continuing to rant. I felt horrible. "You…you remind me of my bitch of a mother." Not going to lie, when I heard that, my eyes welled up and filled with fresh tears. "She'd make assumptions that I was on drugs…her drugs…stealing them from her stash…but I wasn't. I didn't want any of that shit. But when I'd say 'No, mom, I don't have any drugs' She was so drugged out that she'd slap me, hit me…at the drop of a hat it seemed. But one day, shortly after my 16th birthday, I came home from school and she had this wild fucking hair up her ass, tried to come after me," Jon balled his fist up, smacking his other open hand to make a 'smack' noise, "but SMACK! I hit her. Again…and again…and again…my fist came down, her face was swelling up and covered in blood…as were my knuckles." Jon took a moment. I held my face in fear. "The sickest part of it all is I found satisfaction in that. Hitting her. My face connecting with her face. Her blood was warm against my skin." My heart was pounding against my chest. I was silent, wiping tears from my own eyes.

"Jon, I'm so-"

He knew exactly what I was going to say, but cut me off once more. "Don't sympathize for me. You should be fucking happy!" Jon exclaimed out of pure anger. "You got what you fucking wanted all along. You wanted me to open up to you more than I already have, well here it is." Jon grabbed his bag, heading for the door. "I'm fucking done here." And with that, Jon headed for the door, slamming it as he left.

It took me a bit to really take in and register in my mind what Jon just told me and as soon as it hit me, I slid to the floor, cupping my hands around my knees. Was I really that annoying to him? The answer was yes, I think. I should've shut my mouth when he asked. He warned me to, but I didn't listen. On the other hand, Jon really shouldn't have gotten so heated…but, like I said, at the same time I can see why he did…he had one hell of a past and it was none of my business.

After about 10 minutes, wiping tears from my eyes, I stood up. In pure anger, I grabbed the lamp sitting adjacently on the end table and threw it up against the wall. I was angry with myself most of all. Shards of glass flew back and pelted against my arms and onto the floor. I couldn't even begin to believe how angry I was over this, over a man I barely knew…but everything spilled over and spiraled out of control. Which was something I didn't want. I was ashamed with myself. Never once had I met a guy that pissed me off more than Jon fucking Moxley, but never have I met a guy that made me feel more alive than ever before? _What the fuck? _I thought to myself. I couldn't be developing feelings for him. He was an uncontrollable jerk…

After my fit I went to the bathroom to shower, get dressed, do my hair and makeup, and I was ready to leave to head for the Dragon Gate arena where I'd be spending my final night in Chicago, at least for now. I knew that later on that night I'd have to get my wrestling gear on, so I opted for a pair of jeans, Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt, and tennis shoes. I looked in the mirror one last time, still red from the tears…

I flagged down a taxi and they drove me around to the arena, which was only 15 minutes away from the arena. I walked into the arena, my head hung low. As much as I loved my job, beating the shit out of people, my excitement here was at an all time low. Wrestling always made me happy, but not today. Not at all. Especially since I would be facing the man and his slut 'friend' tonight. I wasn't alone, thought. Jimmy Jacobs was in his debut match here in Dragon Gate USA, continuing his feud with Jon from other various independent promotions, such as IPW to name one. I walked in to the women's locker room; Reby and Christina weren't scheduled to be here tonight and, even though I feel bad or admitting it, I was glad I was alone the locker room. I decided to be lazy until it was go time…wise decision. I needed it.

Time passed rather quickly. I kept myself tucked away, alone, in the Women's Lockerroom, reading a zombie novel I had stuffed in my bag. In the middle of a sentence my phone lit up, from an unknown number. Nervously I reached over, hesitant to answer. But I answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Hello, beautiful." My mood shifted even further, if that was even possible. I swallowed. Hard.

"Who is this?" I perked up nervously biting down on my lower lip.

The man's voice on the other line was in a low, almost robotic tone, "Me? I'm you're biggest fan. You're perfect. When you come back home to Minneapolis, Minnesota, you'll be in the surprise of your life." Those words sent a chill up my spine.

"You're really beginning to creep me out. Please, just leave me alone."

"You're telling that to your biggest fan? You might want to rethink that, Nicole." The mans voice was flat. No emotional strings attached to his voice. Just a low, creepy voice.

I didn't know what to say. "I…I…I am sorry?"

"That's right." He stated. My heart raced even faster. "I think about you night and day, baby. Your pictures are all over my room. The things I'd do to your delicate body…"

"Can you please…just…stop. I'll send you a signed picture…I'll-"

He cut me off. "Shut up, Nicole! You and I are meant to be together. Forever. When you come home, I'll be waiting. We'll be like Romeo and Juliet…love in eternity." Tears welled up from the corners of my eyes.

"How'd you get my number?"

"You'd be surprised what you can find on internet when you have hacking abilities. I know all your information, baby girl. Your family, I know where they live. I know everything about you." I wept into the phone at that point. This stalker of mine heard my tears, "This is exactly why I want to take you away from this vile world. They make you think that people like me are insane, but all I want to do is help you!" The man breathed heavily, "It's a filthy, God damn world out there. A beautiful woman like you doesn't deserve to cry…I can take all that pain away. And when you come back home, all your pain will be relieved."

"I'm sorry, but I…I don't want to be taken away…" I really didn't know what to say in between the tears. "Please…"

"Darling, sweet heart…wipe those tears away…you have a match in a little under an hour…I'll be watching…" And with that, the call came to a close. I looked down at the phone, shocked and scared shitless. I threw my phone down in my bag, running directly out into the crowded halls. "Where are you going?!" A voice called out. It sounded like the promoter, Larry, but I ignored it. "I'll be watching…I'll be watching…I'll be watching…" echoed throughout my brain as I darted across the halls. That eerie voice would surely haunt me for the rest of my life. Tears strolled down my cheeks. And then I reached Jon's door. I frantically pounded on his locker room door and turned around, my back facing his, chomping down on the tips of my fingers.

He opened it, "What do you want?" He asked sharply, annoyed at my presence. I turned around, my eyes beet red, tears mixed with mascara and eyeliner streamed down my face.

"Jon…" I called out, my emotions tumbled over and I found myself collapsing into his arms. Muffled, I began crying out, "I can't wrestle tonight. I can't… I can't go home…I'm not safe…I…I…"

Jon brushed some hair out of my face, "What's wrong?!"

"That…that stalker guy called me…"

"I thought you changed your number!" Jon was slightly confused.

"I…I did…but he…he hacked some system, I assume my phone company's, and found my number…I can't…I can't do this anymore…" I suddenly began to regret my career choice. If I hadn't became a wrestler, this wouldn't be happening to me.

Jon didn't know what to do, but he held me close. "I'm so sorry," Jon patted the back of my hair, trying his best to console me. I muttered some words, ones that I couldn't even understand what I said. "I'll go talk to management to see if we can change the match around, okay?"

"No, no…don't leave me here…please…" I begged.

Jon sighed, "Hey, hey…" He cupped the sides of my face with both his hands, "Everything is going to be okay, alright?"

"What if he did something to my dogs? Or…or…my family? Oh…god…" The thought of anything happening to my family broke my heart. I collapsed to the floor on my knees.

He fell with me, kneeling down. "Listen to me…you can come to my hotel room tonight, leave to Cincinnati, Ohio tomorrow and stay with me…" Jon pulled me in for a hug, "I will protect you." He reassured me.

"I…I don't want you…getting hurt."

Jon cupped my face again. He was merely inches away from me, "The only way this bastard would hurt me is if he hurt you."

I shook my head, "You…hated me earlier…" I reminisced back on the verbal fight Jon and I had a few hours ago.

"I don't hate you. I've actually grown quite fond of you. Why do you think I danced with you Friday night?" Jon tucked some hair out of my face. I was sucking in breaths here and there. He eventually wiped some tears away, "And made out with you? I've never done that with any other female in a sincere way, like I did with you."

"Jon…"

"The more I've got to know you, the more I've grown to like you…I might be a screw up…I might be a fucking douche bag like I was earlier this morning…I get that and I apologize." He paused for a few seconds. "But you bring out the best in me, Nicole. That's why I can't lose you. So when this creepy asshole decides to call you, threatening you and your family…fuck that…you're coming to Cincinnati with me. I will keep you safe."

I sighed, "That's nice of you, but…" Jon cut me off. Not with his words, but this time with a kiss. A legitimate, worth-while kiss. It was much more intimate and meaningful than the rather sloppy, drunken-induced kissing we shared on the dance floor Friday. It wasn't a quick kiss either…he was slow, and I liked that. This was the reason why Jon was so intriguing to me. This is why I felt myself falling for him.

Jon tilted his head to the left, I tilted my to the left. His tongue rubbed up against my own. He pulled away, grabbing my hands, interlacing our fingers together. "I will keep you safe, babe." Jon reassured me again. I nodded, taken aback by the kiss that just happened between Jon and I. He stood up to a vertical stance and helped me stand up as well.

I wiped some tears away once more, a smile gracing over my lips for the first time in a few hours, "What's your real name?" I asked, curious.

"Jonathon Good."

"Suits you." I laughed lightly, our fingers still interlaced. Jon smiled a little. "Jonathon?" I called out, he lifted his head, his orbs trailing down to my brown eyes, "Can we go on a date later? Maybe get my mind off all this?"

"Yes!" Jon exclaimed, "I'll surprise you on the place we'll go to, alright? It won't be some cheap diner place either. It'll be fun. I promise." Jon nodded, before letting go of my hand. "I'll go talk to management, okay? Just rest for the remainder of the show."

I nodded, turning around to look around at the inside of his locker room.

"Nicole?" He called out, his hand on the door.

Turning around to face Jonathon, "Yes?"

"You're an amazing woman…" My heart fluttered, my knees were almost weak. I laughed. "I'm serious." I nodded. We smiled once more at one another before Jon headed out into the halls, searching for management. I looked around, seeing his bag draped over a folding chair. I pulled out his phone…I get that it wasn't something I should've done…but it lit up and caught my eye. I didn't go through any messages, but instead the wallpaper on his cell phone was actually a photo of him and I, taken Friday night. I assume it was taken when we were both shitfaced. Honestly, seeing that, made my heart flutter again. Even faster than before.

Behind all the drama, these past three days in Chicago have brought out the best and the worst in me…


	8. Lies

**A/N: **I have so many ideas for Jon and Nicole, you have no freaking idea! If you'd like to throw your ideas towards me, feel free to do so when you leave a review or PM me. Either one of those works! I'm glad people are liking this story so far…I didn't think I'd be this invested into a fanfic, but damn…this one's been fun to write! (: Also, since this story has started off based in Chicago, which I've never been there before, I had to do a little research for this chapter. The few places listed here are actual places in Chicago. I feel like my chapters are way too, uh, slow? I dunno, should I start making my chapters longer and writing more in them instead of drawing the chapters our farther than they really should? I'll let you guys decide on that one… Again, thank you for all the reviews/follows so far. It's been keeping me motivated to write!

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Management was able to shift tonight's card for tonight, coming up with ultimate excuse that I had travel issues. I really hated letting my fans down, but, like my apparent stalker proved tonight, one bad apple ruins it for everyone else. I sat in silence, up against a white tiled wall in Jon's locker room. I didn't even bother to turn the show on in Jon's locker room. After about an hour of sitting there, my eyes dry from all the tears, goosebumps up and down my arms…a knock emerged from the door, breaking my mindless concentration.

It was Jon. "You okay?" He asked, shutting the door behind him.

I stood up, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You look like hell." Jon laughed, inching closer to me.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks?" The pitch in my voice changed a little, not entirely sure how to take Jon's comment. "You don't look to hot either, Mr." He was covered in sweat; his body red, especially on the pec's area and his upper back. "I hate to ask but…where's Trina been?"

"She's hanging out with some friends here in Chicago; she left here once she found out she didn't have a match." I felt like making a comment, but instead bit my tongue.

"Oh, I see." I shrugged, "My makeup's a mess." Bringing my hand up to my face, swiping the black circles underneath my brown orbs. "I have to go grab my bag, okay? I'll be back."

Jon nodded as I walked to the door. "You sure you're okay, though?"

I took in a deep breath, "Yeah, I'm okay, Jon…promise." He nodded again as I headed back out into the halls. There was less people in the back than usual; the majority of people backstage were actually out in the middle of the arena, tearing the ring apart to pack everything into the loading trucks. As much of a drama filled weekend this has been, I've thoroughly enjoyed it. And, despite today being a horrible day, I really hoped that whatever date Jonathon had in mind, it was well worth it.

In the women's locker room I grabbed my bag, picking up my phone and zombie novel book I had read earlier in the night. I stared down at the phone, the man's voice echoing in my head again. "Fuck this!" I said to myself, heading in to the toilet area, throwing the phone into the water. I pushed down on the toilets handle, flushing the phone itself down the drain. "Whoops…" I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that, at least for a little while, I wouldn't have to worry about that man bothering me. I'd be filing a police report anyway. Even though my phone was now gone, my phone company would have records of the man's number and stuff…

Back at Jon's door, I walked in. He had the lower half of his body wrapped in a towel, freshly out of the shower. "Oh, sorry…" I tucked my head low, almost embarrassed of myself.

"It's alright. I'm covered up, aren't I?" He laughed, "I'll be out in a sec."

I nodded, shutting the door, standing out in the narrow hallway. I took a look around at my left and right, knowing that I wouldn't be seeing the Sears Centre again for a long time. The majority of independent shows I had scheduled for the next few weeks were all in the southern and eastern regions of the United States. Then, next month, I'd be off to Germany for a tour with Insane Pro Wrestling. The show in Germany I was most excited about, truthfully. I have never been to Germany before and the fact that I'd be there in a month truly excited me.

After a few minutes, Jon emerged. He wore a small chain necklace, a simple band t-shirt with the bands logo lightly faded, a pair of faded jeans, and some sneakers. "You clean up nice."

He shut his locker room door, his duffle bag hanging off his shoulder, followed by his gym bag in one hand. "I dress like this everyday."

"Typical male."

Jon shrugged, "Eh, I guess so." We both began heading down the halls, I was a few steps behind Jon, due to the hallway being so narrow. "You have any plans for the next week?"

"Not really. I don't have any traveling to do until Wednesday. What about you?"

"I don't have any shows scheduled until Tuesday, actually." I bit down on my lip.

"So since I'll be stuck in Cincinnati with you for a while…what the fuck am I supposed to do about clothes?" Going in to that question, I knew what the obvious answer would be: buy new clothes. However, independent wrestlers made hardly any money. That was one of the shitty parts of wrestling on the indy scenes. All my clothes, aside from the ones I had stuffed away in my bags, were all at my apartment. Great.

"Aren't the twenty outfits stuffed away in your bags enough for you?" Jon said in a sarcastic tone, trying to get a rise out of me.

I playfully glared his way, "You're such an ass."

"Believe me, I know this."

We finally reached Jon's rental car parked away in the lot. "So, where are we headed?" I asked.

"You'll know soon enough."

And with that, Jon and I entered the car, driving off to where ever the hell he wanted to take us. Eventually, after about a 30 minute drive, we pulled up into a parking lot. The sign outside the building read, 'The Bar at The Peninsula Chicago.' I had heard about this place, doing research on it and such before heading out here. It's a relaxing, upscale bar, filled with a few fireplaces throughout the building, a plush couch by the crackling fireplace. Oh, and who can forget the chocolate bar? I tried my best to act surprised as Jonathan and I walked hand in hand into the building.

After about an hour or two of swapping stories about our life, personally embarrassing stories at that, our views on life, jokes, our jobs, and, on top of all of that, trying various samples of wine and other exquisite food, we emerged from the building and back at Jon's rental car. "I had a great time. That was fun."

"I told you!" He opened the passenger side door for me, allowing me to get in.

He walked over to the drivers side, opened the door and entered the car, then started it up. "We'll be in Chicago again, someday."

"You might." I sucked in a breath, then sighed.

"What do you mean by that?" I sighed again, not really wanting to answer. He asked again, "What?"

"This guy…is freaking me out." Clearly I was referring to the stalker. "I really don't feel like wrestling anymore."

"There's freaks everywhere, Nicole. No matter what job you choose, no matter the career path…no matter what, you're going to run in to creeps. You can either choose to sit there and let it continue to bother you or you can kick that person in the balls and move on. It's your choice. But," Jon paused, leaning over to look me right in the eyes, "I won't allow you to leave something you love. Wrestling is your passion. You're not going to leave that easily."

I playfully pushed his face away, "Ay, ay, captain!"

Back at our hotel, in the midst of waiting for our elevator to come down, I felt my inner emotions combating with one another. Half of me was wanting to ask Jon to stay with me because of fear, but then the other part of me wanted to give us our own space. If there's one thing men hate is clingy women. "Can't believe it's my last day in Chicago." I chalked up.

"Yeah, this weekend flew by." He sighed.

"Most weekends do, unfortunately."

"When you're having fun, yeah."

We entered the elevator, "I flushed my phone down the toilet earlier." I laughed. Jon had a total 'WTF' look on his face. "Had to get rid of it somehow…" Jon really couldn't muster up what to say. I looked down at the floor as elevator music played. We reached the floor that my hotel was on, floor 2. The door flung open, "Well…I hope you have a good night." I stated, walking towards the open door.

"You too." Jon stated, I stood outside the elevator doors, smiling at him and waving. Eventually I turned around as the door began to close, but Jon stopped it from opening with his hand.

"You, uh…want me to stay with you again tonight?"

Not going to lie, I wanted to scream yes, but instead, I nodded, turning around to face Jon as he kept the automatic door open. "Yeah, sure." Jon, being taller than me, walked over to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"If I'm going too fast, you can say something." Jon interjected as we reached my hotel door.

"You're not…really… I have got to admit though, I have enjoyed the past 3 days…even though you can be a bit of an ass." Jon shrugged… "I mean that in the sincerest way possible…" I paused, "I should stop talking, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, you should." He laughed faintly, stepping into my hotel room.

I sucked in a breath, turning on the lights, "So what's Cincinnati like? I've never been there…"

"It's a beautiful place. It brought you people like Pete Rose and Jerry Springer." Jon took a seat on the edge of the bed, "You can also buy coffee and cigarettes at a reasonable price. And our taxi drivers still speak English." A laugh followed his final sentence. "On the serious side, yes, it's a beautiful place. Lived there all my life. Granted I lived in the 'ghetto' area of it…once I moved out on my own and started making a decent living in wrestling, I have a decent apartment in the middle of the city."

"I see."

"I've been thinking, though, Jon…as nice as living in Cincinnati sounds…even if just to get this stalker thing done and over with…I still can't wrap my head around being away from my family and stuff. I mean…I have to be there to protect them…"

"So…you're saying you don't want to go with me?"

"…Jon…"

"Answer the question…" He sighed once more.

"I just feel…that…you know…I don't want to be a hassle."

"Quit avoiding the question. Answer me…"

"I don't want to leave with you. At least not right now…"

"Nicole-"

I cut him off, "You said for me to chime in when you were moving too fast…well, I feel like we are. Plus, I'd be stuck in Ohio for who knows how long…I just…can't. I'm sorry. I have two dogs to take care of, bills to pay…" I paused, sighing. "Maybe if you and I become serious or something, I'll seriously consider it…but…right now, I can't…"

Jon played with a loose string on the ripped part of his jeans. He didn't say anything for a good 20 seconds, "I understand."

"Jon, please…don't be mad."

"I'm not. I'm just worried. Once I get to know someone, I'm very protective of that person…I don't want you walking in to your fucking apartment and having that creep in your kitchen with a knife. Who knows what the hell he'd do to you."

"I filed a police report, Jon." Okay, I lied…but…I just couldn't go with Jon. Not yet.

"Really, you did?" He lifted his head, his eyes shifting to my face.

I bit down on my lip, trying not to give away the fact that I was lying. "I did. Seriously. It was before I flushed my phone down the toilet." I knew it was wrong to lie, but I had to. This stalker was just waiting for me to get home. As much as I wanted to avoid going home I couldn't. He'd be there, waiting. And what would happen if I didn't show up? He'd put my entire family in a situation and I couldn't leave to another city knowing that…and I couldn't be running away from it either.

"Good. I hope that asshole rots."

"Me too." I took a seat next to Jon. He wrapped his arms around me, interlacing our fingers again. I leaned up against his shoulder, my head resting against his neck. He laid back, causing me to fall back with him, laying on his right arm while his left hand interlaced with my fingers. Both exhausted, we fell asleep in each others arms…


	9. Home Sweet Home?

**A/N: **All I can say about this chapter is…I _**really**_ need to stop watching Law & Order: SVU and The Walking Dead… Anyway, this chapter is rated M for _reasons_…

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I couldn't believe that this was my last few hours in Chicago, spending the last few hours in a packed airport. Jon and I departed at our respected terminals. I was off to Minneapolis, Minnesota and he was off to Cincinnati, Ohio.

"Thanks for the great weekend, Jon."

"No, thank you. Keep in touch, at least?" He handed me a sheet of paper with his cell phone number written on it. "When you get a new phone of course." I laughed, nodding. I couldn't say much else, but he leaned in to hug me, then press his lips against my own for a quick goodbye kiss.

I always hated goodbyes. But this one was different. I knew we weren't saying goodbye forever; we'd see each other again, or at least talk to each other… but then my mind shifted to _him_. The stalker of mine, who apparently was waiting out in my home or, since he knew my schedule, would be waiting some where around there…

Every single fucking thought that entered my brain was him…I envisioned his face. His monotone, low voice echoed throughout my mind… I tried to stay strong sitting on that place, but every now and then I wiped away tears… I couldn't tell the police. I don't know how this guy would react… I couldn't tell the police, at least not right now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXX

At the doors of my house, I saw no car, heard no noises in the house… I breathed heavily, pushing my keys into the door knob to unlock the door. Slowly opening the door, I shut the door behind me, very quietly. I slipped into the living room area; nothing had been touched, or moved… I escaped into the kitchen…not a damn thing was moved… I checked behind me, nothing… I grabbed the largest knife I could, just for precaution. I walked down the hall, to check my bathroom and room. Nothing again. It was extremely quiet. Too quiet. For one last swipe through my own home I checked the living room and kitchen again, then my room and bathroom… still, nothing… everything was in place. I brought the knife down to my side, the hairs on my back still standing up. Tension was high; I was stressed. But this creep wasn't in my house. I set the knife down back in the drawer.

"Why, Nicole?" That voice…that fucking voice… It was him. I couldn't even turn to face the man. His hands reached out for the back of my head, tightly grabbing a hold of my brunette locks… He spoke, his voice low at first, but with the last sentence, he was screaming… "Why didn't you call me, Nicole? WHY DIDN'T YOU KEEP IN TOUCH? AND WHY WEREN'T YOU ON THE SHOW SATURDAY NIGHT? HUH?" He grabbed the back of my hair, pulling my entire being up against him. Tears immediately flew out of my eyes, "Oh, Nicole…sweetie…the last thing I've wanted to do is make you cry…" He held a large hunting knife up against my neck. "If you scream, I will end _your suffering _right now…" My emotions melted in to one. I felt stupid, foolish, angry, and regretted not filing a police report. Then another part of me was scared, shaking. I knew that at any given moment, any wrong move, this man could end my life right here…

"If you don't want me to cry, you won't hurt me." I didn't flitch or move, feeling the blade up against my neck. I was in a tight squeeze and predicament, held up against the counter and this unnamed guy had me pinned, my back facing him.

He pressed his body deeper into mine, causing me to lean forward a little, "I won't hurt you at all…in fact, that's the last thing on my mind…" He slowly trailed the tip of the knife against my neck and immediately down the front part of my body, leaving a tiny red line, "When I take you away from this vile, horrible world…you'll be thankful for what I did. Those people out there, those are the people that want to hurt you!"

"I…I don't want to be taken away from this…if you…if you do that…you will hurt me…" I stammered getting the words out, choked up; petrified.

"You got that all wrong. That's what the voices in your head want you to believe. It's your mind playing tricks on you." He whispered, the side of his head against my own, right up against my right ear. "I've loved you ever since I saw you, Nicole…" His knife was still up against my neck, but he let go of my hair with his other hand, trailing the tips of his fingers down my upper torso, cupping my left breast. His free hand immediately moved to the hem of my pants, immediately darting for my pants button. "Before we both end out lives tonight, we'll go out with a bang…"

"Please…no…please…" The words stammered out, tears flowing down my face.

"QUIET!" He forcefully brought my head forward, crashing it against the granite counter top. "I've been waiting for this day, Nicole! God, you're so beautiful…" He whipped my head back up, whispering into my ear again. "Say my name, Nicole. Say it."

"…I don't…I don't know… your name…"

"Josh. SAY IT!"

"…J…J…Josh…"

"SAY IT LOUDER, DAMMIT!" I felt his groin rubbing up against my rear.

"I…no…please…"

Josh let out a scream, bringing the knife against my cheek, slashing it with the tip of the knife. "Fucking scream my name, you bitch."

Although the cut was small, blood began to come out of the fresh wound. "JOSH…" I wept as the name flew out of my mouth. "Please…just…let me go…and…I won't tell anyone of this…please, Josh…" I begged, almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Oh, no…you're not getting out of this. We're meant to be together, Nicole. Forever…like Romeo and Juliet, remember?" He brought his free hand back down to the hem of my pants, pecking his lips along the side of my cheek as he whispered in my ear, "I know your favorite song…Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult…"

He unbuttoned my pants, then unzipped them, bringing the pants down to my ankles. "Josh…please…please…no…just stop…please…"

"Shh, baby girl…shh…" He then stuck his thumb through the side of my black Victoria's Secret underwear down to my ankles, sitting on top of the bundled blue jeans. "You can stop saying my name…cause you'll be screaming it in no time…"

"Josh…" As hard as it was for me to do this, I played a long with his little mind game. "Can I at least turn around to face you? See your face…" I sucked in a breath…

"You can, baby." He let go of the back of my hair, "Turn around."

I turned around as he commanded, getting a good look at his face. I placed my hand on top of his which held the knife, "Put the knife down…I won't do anything…" I paused, "If you love me, you're going to have to trust me in this, Josh…"

He brought the knife down, setting it on the counter. I got a good look of his face; imagine Heath Ledger as the Joker, minus the face paint…same whacky, greasy hair… "You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes on."

It took everything I had within my being not to grab a hold of the knife. "You're…great looking, too…" I chalked up the words. He was silent. "Josh? You can-"

_SMACK! _He slapped me, "Don't fucking lie to me again, Nicole!" He grabbed my brunette locks again… I was dizzy for a split second. My head then came crashing down against the counter top once more, "One more lie and you're done for. GOT IT?!" I mindlessly nodded. "Get down on your knees."

"…what…?" My voice was weak.

"GET DOWN ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!" He grabbed my hair again, forcing me to get to my knees.

"Unzip my pants."

"Josh…"

"FUCKING DO IT!" I wept, sobbing as my hands straggled against his pants button. Once his pants were down to his ankles. I was down at my knees… "Blow me. NOW!"

"Look up…you'll enjoy this more if you do…trust me…" He looked up…I leaned in, my face inches away from his cock. Instead of giving him a blow job, I head butted his bare cock, which caused him to lean forward. Standing up, I balled my hand up into a tight fist, crashing the balled fist into his face. He immediately, even though he was in pain, grabbed my hair, throwing my body to the ground.

"You fucking bitch!" He grabbed the knife, but I used all my arm strength to grab his ankle which caused Josh to fall to the floor… The knife went flying, landing on the floor, but was only a few steps away from the two of us. He immediately went to go for the knife, but I sat up, grabbing the back of his head, bashing it against the floor at least 5 times. I reached forward, trying to the grab the knife. "NO!" He called out, blood covered his face. My finger tips touched the bladed end of the knife, but he pulled me back. He kicked my stomach. "You're so fucking stupid." I winced in pain, curling up on the floor, hugging my now searing stomach in pain.

"J…J…Josh…I'm begging you…please…" I called out, my voice weak.

He had a hold of the large hunting knife once more. He kneeled down to grab my hair once more, which forced me to stand at a vertical base. "I…I'm sorry…" I cried out.

"YOU'RE NOT SORRY! I WARNED YOU! BUT YOU DIDN'T LISTEN!" He held the knife up against my neck. "Any last words?"

"I…love…you…" I closed my eyes…terrified. He pulled the knife away a little.

"…what? WHAT'D YOU SAY?"

I choked up the words once more, "…I…I…I love you…" I wept again, "I…I'm not…lying…"

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear…" He threw the knife on the counter once more, pushing the front of my body against the counter as his cock entered inside me. I could barely register what exactly was happening…I didn't move or flinch…nothing…he mumbled some words as he groaned. I couldn't fathom what was happening at all. He was inside me for maybe thirty seconds before I snatched the knife from the counter, directly pointing the blade behind me, pushing it into his eyeball. He screamed, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He immediately brought his hand up to knife, trying to take the knife out of his eye socket.

"Don't take it out! I will call for help, but you need to fucking stay there. Do not move." I ordered, grabbing my underwear and pants, pulling them up to cover the lower half of my body. My eyes were locked on Josh, who was screaming obscenities my way. Tears flowing out of his eyes, blood mixed with the one eye though. I grabbed my home phone, dialing 911. Within a split second, an operators voice came on the other line. "Please…help me…I have an intruder in my home…" I cried in almost a relief, "He came after me so I stuck a knife in his eye…He's still alive…but oh god…please come help me!"

I immediately grabbed my kitchen knife, holding it outwardly, "You move an inch and I will fucking kill you." An almost maniacal laugh belted out from Josh among the cries. I cringed at his laugh.

Within minutes I heard the sirens. Two police cars, an ambulance, and a firetruck were filled in my neighborhood. Police came barging in to my home.

"HELLO?" One officer called out.

I took one last look at Josh before screaming, "In the kitchen! Please, hurry!" I couldn't wait to see this creep leave.

The officers came into the kitchen, taking a gander at the scene. A man on the floor with a knife wedged in his eye socket with his pants down to his ankles, a woman with a cut on her cheek and her hair a mess, and the amount of items that were once placed neatly on the counter were all spread throughout, some tilted over. Without question, the officers immediately picked the man up, throwing his rights out. I stood there, no emotions.

"You okay, Miss?" An officer asked. He reached out to wrap a blanket around me. I flinched, "It's okay, Miss." He slowly wrapped me in a blanket, "You'll be okay. This man will be going away." I nodded mindlessly, my eyes red from nothing but tears.

"He came after me... I…I didn't know what else to do…"

"You did the right thing." The male officer sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. I flinched again, "I know it's hard, but…did he…"

I knew exactly what he was going to ask. Before the word stumbled out of his mouth, I nodded, "Yes…he…did…for about…30 seconds…that's all…that's when I stuck him in the eye…and…" I collapsed to the floor. "He started stalking me, according to him, a few years ago I assume. But didn't make it apparent until two days ago."

"I'm so sorry." The officer's voice was sincere, "We'll need you to come down to the hospital for a rape kit."

I turned my head, "And this," I lifted my hands up, looking frantically around the kitchen, "This isn't enough evidence for you? I know what happened. I don't need to be reminded of it every time I go to the doctors."

"But what if he has some disease?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "I'll go to the hospital, whatever you want…only if I can call someone first? Please…" The officer nodded. "Can I just…have a few minutes to myself, please? While I make the call?" He nodded again, stepping out of the room.

I pulled out the sheet of paper which had Jon's number etched onto it. "Keep in touch at least? When you get a new phone of course." Those words Jon said in our last minutes in the airport resonated in my brain as I dialed his number.

"Hello?"

My voice cracked immediately as his name flew out of my mouth, "J…Jon…"

"Nicole?" He knew something was up just by the sound of my voice. "What happened?!"

"He…he was here…he…came after me…"

"Oh my god…no…" I could hear the worry in his voice.

"He…I…I stuck him with a knife right in the eye and it bought me enough time to call the police…"

"Call the police? I…I thought you filed a police report?"

It took me a brief moment to answer it. "I…I lied to you…about that. I know what your thinking…I'm stupid…I know I'm stupid…I know that now…I'm sorry for that…but…I didn't know what this guy would be like if I had police around…"

"Nicole-"

"Please don't be mad at me, Jon…" I begged, "I've been through enough…I…I…please don't be mad…please, Jon…please…"

"Nicole…I'm not mad, okay?! I'm just happy you're alive." He paused, "Did he…r-rape you?" That question caused a slew of tears to come barreling out of my mouth. "No…no…no…that wouldn't have happened if…oh Jesus…I'm going to kill that bastard?"

"Jon…Jon…" I said meekly, "He…he did…but only for about 30 seconds…that's when I stuck him with the knife…"

Jon was silent. I was silent. I could hear Jon's breathing, he was pissed. "I just…am so fucking pissed off right now…this wouldn't have happened if I would've came with you…"

"This is NOT your fault, Jonathon. If anything…it's mine."

"You didn't ask for this shit, Nicole."

"Neither did you. Jon, it's not your fault."

The officer that was previously in the room re-entered, "Miss? We have to go now."

"Jon? Hello?" He was silent, "I have to go…"

"Go where?" He finally asked.

I sighed, "To the hospital for…testing…and questioning…"

"Fucking hell." He muttered.

"I'll be okay." I paused, "I…I will call you afterwards, okay?" I really did not want to end the call, but I had to.

Jon exhaled, "Alright. Stay safe."

"I will. I promise."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx

My trip to the hospital was a blur. And the questioning at the police station was hectic. All I asked was to keep this story or any information away from the media. I did not want any attention on the matter. As soon as I got home, I walked in to the kitchen, a mess still surrounding the counters. I didn't even bother to clean it up, that'd wait until tomorrow. Instead, I grabbed my house phone again, dialing Jon's number.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Jon…"

"Nicole…"

"I told you I'd call you right when I got home."

He sighed like it was a relief or something. "Good…are you sure you're okay? How was the test? Did they…find anything…?"

"Test results won't be in until Wednesday…"

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry, Jon…" I began to apologize.

"For what?"

"Lying to you. I feel horrible."

Jon almost took offence that I was apologizing, "Don't apologize. You were trying to put my mind at ease. Granted, I wish you would have actually called the police and reported it, but I can see why you didn't at the same time." He paused for a moment, "Don't apologize for this. There's nothing to be sorry for, you understand me?"

I nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"I miss you…" He sighed.

"What?"

"I miss you."

"We've only been away from each other for a few hours, Jon." I laughed a little.

"I got you to laugh."

It took me a second to register what he said, which only caused me to laugh again. "Ah, you did…good job." Another laugh, a third one, escaped my lips.

"Again…" He paused, another light laugh escaping my lips. "For what it's worth…I do miss you, though."

"I miss you, too…" I confessed.

"Honest to God? Or whoever's up there?"

"Honest to God."

"Good, just what I wanted to hear."

I grinned. "Like I said previously, Jon…you're a giant teddy bear. An ass at times, but a sweetheart."

"Ugh…"

"I'm serious!"

"I'm not a fucking teddy bear. Good Lord, woman…" Jon scoffed.

I laughed again, "Shut up and take the fucking compliment!" I joked.

"Fine. But only if you take this compliment…" He paused.

"What compliment?"

"You ready?"

"Uh…yeah…"

"Okay… you're the nicest, but the biggest pain in the fucking ass I've ever met."

"Thanks?"

He said in a mocking tone, "I mean that in the sincerest way possible." Obviously that was a mock from something I had said the night before.

"Sure you do…" I sighed, a yawn followed, "I'm exhausted…"

"Go to bed."

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not really. I rarely sleep anymore."

"Why?"

"Reasons I'd rather not explain."

"Oh…well…I'm going to get some sleep. Goodnight, Jonathon."

"Goodnight, Nicole. Sleep well, babe."

"You too, babe."

_Click._


	10. Freak

(I had a lot of fun writing this chapter…especially the ending… LOL… It's the longest chapter I've written thus far; I'm sick of making you people wait for the story to progress, hence why this chapter is lengthy compared to the other chapters that I've written. Enjoy! As always, please read and review!)

XIt's been exactly one week since the events of my stalker came to a close. No matter what I did to try and get over what happened, I knew I couldn't. The worst part of it all was that I had Jon swimming in his own source of regret for not leaving with me. Whenever we'd chat, although our conversations were short and to the point, he'd still manage to apologize as if it was _his _fault. Why is it that the good and the bad things always come rolling into my life when Jon's around? That's one thing I've noticed.

Although what happened to me was hellacious and it could've taken a turn for the ultimate worst, I damn sure was not going to sit around and be the victim. The next day, Monday, following the events, I went down to the local wrestling school and trained in the ring, worked out, and let out every ounce of bottled up aggression and fear into that squared circle. My body ached, I was swimming in my own sweat, and I could barely walk for a few days, but damn, was that rigorous workout worth it. The wrestling ring is what I was born to do and bound to love.

Today, Sunday, was going to be the one day where I do absolutely nothing. I'm in my sweats, no make up, hair up in a messy bun. Just a lazy day of doing a whole lot of nothing. Tonight, my best friend, Alice, was over. She had no idea what happened in this home one week ago, but I'd rather keep that between myself, Jon, and the authorities. I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for what happened to me. Once Alice came over, it was like old times. We started talking about how shitty our jobs our (for me, my part-time job as a waitress) and Alice worked as a hairdresser. Yeah, she loved doing hair, but she could not stand her boss. We also swapped over what we hated on our body parts, which mine would have to be my skinny ankles, Alice hated her freckles (which, I thought they were adorable!), and then we got to the kicker. I started talking about this guy I met. Alice alluded her own two cents into the discussion…

"You play with fire for too long and you're going to get burned, Nicole." My friend, Alice, said, cupping her coffee cup, the warmth of the hot liquid warming her hands instantly.

I sighed, I knew she was right. But I was too stubborn to admit it. It took me a moment to reply, but eventually I did. "I get that, but Jon's different, you know?"

"So you think…Nicole, I'm just looking out for you. Remember? You said that about your ex-boyfriend..." Alice's Midwestern accent shined through, purely bitter of her to bring that relationship up. She was right. But again, I was too stubborn to admit that.

"I'd rather not even drag him into this, Alice. There's a reason he's an ex-boyfriend." I sighed again, my eyes gazing to the carpeted ground of my apartment. "Let's just. Fuck it. I can't even talk about this shit right now." I brought my hands up, burying my forehead into the palms of my hands.

"I think you're in need of some serious R and R, darling." Alice stood up to a vertical stance, placing her coffee cup onto the end table.

I sighed, bringing my hands back down to my sides, "Not really. I just…I don't know…" So many emotions were coursing through my body, I didn't know which emotion to pinpoint. Alice, she didn't know of the events that happened last week. And I'd rather keep that to myself. I didn't need everyone to know. "I think I'm going to call him. He's on the road and, if my timing's right, he'll done with the show now." I was stuck in Minnesota, where Jonathon was out there in Arizona for a IPW show. Word around the street was that Jon was set to win the IPW World Title. I had to call and see how the show went.

"Whatever." Alice yawned, grabbing my TV's remote and planting her body down lifelessly on the sofa. "When you return, grab me a beer, will you?" She laughed.

"Get off your ass and get it yourself." I said jokingly.

Alice got all serious in her tone, but I knew she was joking, "I'm the guest here, doll face." I rolled my eyes, heading back to my bedroom to call Jon.

Taking in some breaths, letting out any nerves I felt, I pressed his name when it popped up on my contacts list. The sound of ringing on the other end for about 7 seconds. And then he picked up. "Hello?" It had only been two days since we last spoke over the phone, but damn was it good to hear his voice again.

"Hey, Jon. How are you?" I asked.

"Sweaty and fucking ecstatic!"

"Oh, so the rumors are true? You won the World Title?" I smiled for him.

"You're damn right I did." He said with sheer confidence.

I smiled again, "Congratulations, Jon! I'm really happy for you." There was silence between us, at least aside from Jon catching his breath.

"Thanks. If only you weren't here to celebrate with me."

"I'm there in spirit. We'll see each other in a few days, I just finished up my shows in New Jersey and New York, so next week, I'll be back in IPW."

He paused, silence among us again. But only for a split second. "Ah, yeah. I'm facing off against Jimmy Jacobs then. It's, like, our fiftieth match together. I'll mop the floor with him…again."

"Why oh why are you _so _mean to Jimmy?"

"'Cause I hate emo people. They need to be slapped back into reality. He'll complain about his upbringing, bitching about how his mom went to college and his dad was a fucking judge…to me? He doesn't know anything about tough beginnings." Jon's ranting was a little ridiculous, but whatever. I listened closely. I couldn't help but fall back onto my bed, the back of my head landing fast first no the plush pillow, "Then he has the audacity to compare him and I? What the fuck?"

"Yeah, you're right, Jon. You two are _nothing _alike." I snickered into the phone, a tight smirk graced over my lips.

Jon didn't know what to say, but his tone told the story. He was offended. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You're complaining about his _bitching _by _bitching_."

"That's different." He quickly scrambled for an answer.

"How so?" I paused, he tried to speak, but I cut him off, "Last I checked, that's called being hypocritical. And, Jon…I know you're not a hypocrite. So stop acting like one."

"Yes ma'am." He said with pure sarcasm. He quickly slyly altered the subject, "So, when we meet up again, you want to hang out again?" What's with men not being able to say date? Like, seriously. Just spit it out. It's a four letter word. It is not going to kill you.

"You mean a date, right?" Nicole couldn't help but grin mindlessly, hearing Jonathon groan at the word.

"If that's what you want to call it, sure."

I poked fun at this topic, something that Jonathon apparently couldn't stand chatting about, "Typically two people hanging out together, yeah, that's a date, Jon." I admired the fact that the two us are not rushing into anything at all. And the fact that this 'relationship' among the two of them was formed at a bar in Chicago, filled with a slew of drunken-induced dancing and sloppy whiskey filled kisses, amazed me. I never thought anything would come out of that. It's amazing what whiskey can do. I found myself reminiscing on that night, part of me wanting to relive it, just to see his face again…man, talk about blame it on the alcohol, right?

"Ugh. Whatever. Man, I have to hit the showers. I'll call or text you later, alright, babe?"

I couldn't help but have the biggest, cheesy grin on my face whenever he called me babe. Something about that cute little nickname… "Alright, have…uh…fun?"

Jon sighed heavily, then took a drink of his water, I assumed anyway. "Oh, I will." He said jokingly. "Try not to think about me _too _much."

"Jon you, sir, are perverted."

He laughed lightly, as did I, and we eventually finished up our short but meaningful phone conversation with a simple goodbye on each end. For a minute, I cupped my face, giddy and all happy. Then I placed my cell phone on my night stand, plugging it into the charger. "Hey, Alice?" I yelled, hoping she'd hear me.

"What?" She called out, her voice slightly muffled and drowned out by the TV in the other room.

"You want to go out tonight?"

Alice yawned, "Not really, but if you want to, we can?"

"If you don't want to go out, we don't have to." I paused, stepping out into the hallway which led me to the living room. "What about going out for dinner at the Cheesecake Factory?"

"Dude…cheesecake sounds fucking delicious right now." Alice popped up, standing a vertical base all excited. I could've swore, at times, she acted like a damn kid in a candy store. Before I could even begin to speak, Alice chimed in, her voice changing to a more serious tone. "So…what did you and Johnny boy talk about?"

"Nothing." I shrugged, walking away into the kitchen to grab a drink. "Just…stuff. He won the world title, which I know that means nothing to you, but to us wrestlers, it means a lot." I grabbed a glass, beginning to fill it with water, "And, when I see him again in a few days, we'll be hanging out again. I say it's a date, but Jon says otherwise."

"Ohhh, Nicole." Alice laughed, "He just wants in your pants." I glared, placing the cup onto the counter. "You know I'm right…"

"Why do you constantly have to be the Debbie Downer in every situation? Like I told you, even though I barely know Jon, from what I've seen, he's different. At least he acts different with me."

"Acts different, maybe. I just, you know, don't want you getting hurt…again. I know you didn't want me to bring Kyle up, but I just don't want a repeat of that relationship. Just looking after you, Nicole."

I sighed, "Now you're just going to worry me…I mean, what if he's just acting all sweet and shit to me just to get in my pants?" Sadness overcame my facial features. Suddenly every single negative thought entered my brain.

"I'm just saying, if he turns out to be a complete dick after fucking you, don't be surprised." Always blunt with her words. Ugh.

I sighed again, heavily this time, leaning my back against the granite counter top. I chomped down on my lower lip as thoughts entered my brain, "I'm not going to sleep with him though, Alice. Not for a long time. We're not rushing anything. At least I'm not…besides, with what happened last weekend-" Shit, covers blown.

"What happened?!" Alice perked up, inching closer to me.

"It's nothing. Just forget I said anything."

"No, damn it, Nicole. Tell me!"

After a heavy sigh, I finally caved. After a few sorrowful and emotional reminiscing, I went into detail on what happened last weekend with my stalker, finally opening up to another person, my best friend. The only person I could trust, knowing that she wouldn't go off boasting about it to others. Especially since I begged her not to tell anyone since the authorities were already notified, the sick bastard was in jail serving time, and I didn't want anyone's pity on it. I begged her not tell another soul, even though I knew she wouldn't.

We eventually headed into the bathroom, having Alice do my hair and makeup, going out to the Cheesecake Factory. While there, to my surprise, a few wrestling fans noticed me. I greeted them with pure happiness and nothing but smiles and small chatter amongst the fans, while Alice sat there. Alice supported my job in life and all, but she was clueless as to why wrestling was such a huge, popular sport, didn't understand any of it, and she especially didn't get how, if I'm not on TV, people recognize me. After some exquisite dinner, wine tasting, and phenomenal cheesecake samplers, we headed back out to our separate homes for some sleep. Busy day tomorrow, which is a Monday, for me consisting of gym, tanning, laundry, packing, cleaning, bills, prepping dinner, manicure and pedicure, and, on top of all of that, I worked 5 hours at my bartending job. Then, the next day, Tuesday, I'd be flying out to New Jersey for CZW, which is where Jonathon and I would meet up again.

To say bartending on a Monday night/early Tuesday morning was shitty wouldn't even begin to cover it. Especially the bar that I worked at. The job itself wasn't bad, but when your boss is a pudgy, greedy douche bag constantly badgering you for every little thing. The worst part that happened on Monday was getting pulled aside and to the back of the bar near the office and have your boss basically tell me that I'm a worthless, horrible, and vile human being. My boss didn't like me. He hated my hair. He hated my tattoos. He hated my voice. He hated me. But it's whatever though, all the times I'd go home bawling and crying over this place when I first started would be worth it once I actually made it in the wrestling business…which my wrestling career was starting to take off. Hence why I was traveling to Germany in a few weeks. If you couldn't tell, I couldn't wait to leave this damn bartending part-time job. Soon, my friends. Soon…

In the midst of my 5 hours at the bar, I pulled out my phone, outside for a smoke break, dialing Jon's number. He answered, mumbling. "I'm sorry Jon. Did I, uh, wake you up?" I asked, he sounded out of it. Or drunk.

"No, no…I'm…uh…" He slurred. Was he drunk? "I'm just working out."

"Oh." That did not sound like he was working out. "Are you okay? You sound…strange…"

He murmured into the phone, "I'm fine!" He snapped. I was a little taken back.

"Jon?" And then…I heard the sound of a chick giggling in the background. She said something along the lines of sucking Jon off. My heart pounded against my chest. There was silence on my end. Jon spoke, but I couldn't even make out what he was saying. "How could you?" I felt my eyes well up with tears.

"What? What'd I do now?" His voice perked up, but he still stumbled when getting the words out.

"I can hear that slut in the background…I'm not stupid, Jon…I'll just…call you later…" I immediately hung up, not even saying goodbye or anything to him. He immediately tried calling me back and texting me, but I ignored it. I threw my hands up in the air, feeling stupid. Then I backed up against the brick building, sliding down onto my butt, cupping my knees. The fact that Jon was getting his dick sucked by some female wasn't really what tore me up inside. It was the fact that I thought him and I were becoming increasingly close, calling each other every few days if not every day, and talking about an upcoming date… and the fact that he was the first person I called after getting attacked…but then he stoops down to that level? Fucking around with other women? I'm not blowing this out of proportion…am I? With a heavy heart, I wiped the tears away from my eyes, completely devastated. I walked back into that bar. The hardest part was acting as if nothing was wrong…everything was wrong. Every fucking thing…instead of calling Jon after work like I did the past week, I'd be calling Alice once my shift was over, even though it would be 3 in the morning…

Once I was home, I threw my body onto the couch, dialing out to Alice. Tears filled my brown eyes, still devastated. After a long and emotional talk, I dished everything out to Alice. A lot of what I said didn't make much sense, but she listened. She understood. And I'll never forget what she told me, "You're either in love with the idea of being in love, or you're really in love with this guy, Nicole. And, I hate to say it, but either he doesn't feel the same way, or he just wants to get in your pants and then be done with you, or maybe he's this messed up guy and needs you to help him. Maybe, once he realizes he does love you, maybe he'll be changed man, but from the sounds of it, Nicole…" I cut her off with a blubber and sigh. "Nicole, stop. I was going to say that maybe, once he gets to know you more, he'll open up to you more and explain why he does the fucked up things he does. What he did was wrong…but maybe you just need to be the one girl that comes into his life and changes everything." Alice paused, "You changed my life. Not in a 'oh my god, date me bitch' kind of way, but you changed me. You made me realize that there's still good people out there and that there's people out there who are not at all afraid to go for their dreams…" And after that conversation with Alice, I went to bed with a smile. Still, tears were in my eyes, but damn, Alice always knew what to say and when to say it, especially when it came to making me feel better about any bad or shitty situation.

X

Tuesday was finally here. I awoke to a voice mail from Jon. As much as I did not want to listen to it, I did. He said, sorrow in his voice, "Nicole, god. I'm so sorry for that…I'm trying to change, trying to be a better man. I'm trying, but it's so fucking hard. Please, Nicole, please do not be turning your back against me like everyone else has when I make a mistake." He paused, stammering out the words. "You're one person I look forward to speaking with. To be more precise, you're the only person I look forward to talking with. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me, even though I'm a fucking screw up. Trust me, I know I'm a screw up. I know I'm a loser, but Nicole, please…I'm begging you…just call me when you get the chance, okay? Or you'll just have to face me in person…pick your poison. But please do not up and write me out of your life. Alright? Just call me, text me, something so I know that you got this message…" And with that, his voice mail was over. I didn't know what to think. My eyes were dry and heavy from how hard I must've cried last night…

I didn't even respond to him to tell him I received the message. Seeing him in person would be hard enough. I wasn't going to forgive him yet, not over phone especially. If he wants to sincerely apologize, he'd do it to my face, not over the phone…

X

New Jersey was one state I visited a lot, due to Combat Zone Wrestling being a popular attraction there. Jon was at the show, but I avoided him at all costs so I could prepare with my match against Jessica Havok for the night. Afterwards, however, would be a different story. After meeting some fans, signing some autographs, and selling a few pieces of merchandise, I headed to Jon's locker room. His door was slightly opened, so I opened it even more. Jon's back was facing the door. He had his headphones in, full blast. He didn't realize I was even behind him. I lifted my arm up, tapping his shoulder. Jon took his headphones off, turning around. He stood at attention seeing me. I cut him off before he could even begin to speak, "If you're going to apologize to me, you're going to apologize in person…"

"Fine, you want me to apologize twice? I will…yeah, so a chick sucked me off, I get that it was wrong. I was drunk-"

"Don't blame the fucking alcohol, Jon. You know damn good and well that you were just wanting to get laid. You've been dropping hints all week since I started talking to you." I said sharply, my voice raising. "I might be stupid for saying this, but when I heard that slut in the background, it killed me. YOU were the first person I called after being attacked. YOU are the only person I look forward to speaking with every fucking day. And then YOU go pull that stunt and apologize over the phone? How could you?" I felt my eyes well up with tears. "I had high hopes for you and I, but damn, was I stupid."

"You're not stupid Nicole." Jon tried to cup my face, but I turned my head. He brought his hand back down, "I've already admitted it. I'm fucking stupid. I'm a screw up." I shifted my eyes back to him, "I'm trying to change…trying to change…for you. Fucking hell, Nicole? What else can I say? I've apologized and admitted my wrong doings, and that isn't good enough for you?"

"I never said that. I'm still angry. I have every right to be, wouldn't you agree? Don't answer that, it's a rhetorical question." I placed my hands on my hips, "Was I just going to be the next chick you expected to have your way with, fuck a few times, then leave? Huh? 'Cause if that's the case, you and I will never be. I'm not going to be some fucking random slut you fuck on occasion. I've told you that since day one."

"No, Nicole! God damn it!" He shook his fists in the air, "It's nothing like that! You're the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met in my fucking life. You're never pleased with anything." Out of pure anger, Jon flipped the folding chair he was previously sitting on over. I jumped a little when it crashed onto the ground, he was merely inches away from my face, kneeling down slightly to be at my eye level, since he's taller than me, "I know you're different than any girls that I've met. That's why I've been so drawn to you. I dig that about you…"

"You're drawn to me, huh? Is your dick drawn to me or is it Jonathon Good, the man, that's drawn to me?" He glared, wanting to come up with some complicated explination. "Don't fucking go into detail. It's a simple question. Answer it, now."

"I'm drawn to you, Nic!" He paused, "Sexual attraction is just a plus in all of this." He lowered his voice, calming down.

I sighed, cupping my face, "God, I hate you…" I said, with some sarcasm.

"Alright, well-" Before he could finish, I grabbed the back of his head, pecking his lips. It was nice knowing that I was the one that went in for the kiss this time, instead of Jon.

I was in control of this whole thing. He pushed his lips harder against mine, his hands roaming down to my waist, pulling me closer. Our kiss lasted probably about 20 seconds. As soon as we pulled away, I looked up into his eyes, "I forgive you, Jon." I grabbed his left hand that rested on my waist, brought it up to my lips, pressing my lips against his index, middle, and back to his index finger again.

I brought his hand back down, he rested it back against my hip. "Good, that's what I wanted to here." He gripped my waist tightly, "I'm sorry, babe."

"It's okay, Jon…" I sighed, picking up both of his hands this time. "Come here." I pulled him in to me, my back colliding with his locker room door, slamming it shut. Jon picked me up. I instinctively wrapped both my legs around his waist. Jon grabbed my hands, pinning them against the wall, our fingers interlaced. He leaned in against my neck, pecking my flesh. I tilted my head back slightly, giving him more room. I groaned a little, "Mmm, Jon…baby…" I whispered, he pulled his head back up a little to look directly into my eyes, I leaned in, biting down against his ear, whispering sweet nothings. Honestly, I really had no idea what the fuck I was saying, but whatever. I heard his groans, he was turned on. Mission accomplished. "No fucking me yet, baby…I'm going to let all your frustration, anger, and sadness intensify and grow stronger in your body…I'm going to tease you so fucking bad, baby…" I paused, my hot breath against his ear lobe gave him goosebumps. I bit down on his ear again, getting slightly turned on as well. Phew… "All your pent up aggression…oh, babe…when the time's right…you'll be able to fuck me senseless…"

He groaned again. I knew his manhood was throbbing and hard. "You evil, evil woman…" He pecked his lips against my lips.

"It's going to get worse, baby. Trust me…" A sinister and sincere smirk overcame my mouth, eventually transitioning into a deep smile. "You just wait." Clearly I was going to be testing him on just how long he'd wait for me, not fucking around with other females, hence why I was doing this. "You hurt me. Oh, well…in that case… I'll hurt you in the worst way possible…" I hopped down, landing on the floor. "Starting with this." I slowly unzipped my hoodie, revealing a white tank top with a skull in the middle, then slowly unbuttoned my pants and unzipping them, "You're losing control, aren't you Jon?" His eyes were glued on me, watching every move, "I bet you touch yourself thinking about me," I slowly lifted my shirt up, revealing my slender abdomen, "You're a dirty, dirty guy, aren't you baby?" Eventually I lifted the shoulder over my head, then grabbed Jon's hand, placing them on the sides of my pants near my hips. I unclipped my own bra, covering my breasts up with my hands. Jon nodded mindlessly, focused on my bare body. I walked in closer, pressing my half bare body against his, "If you're a good boy, you'll get to see more of this…but if you're a bad boy," I turned around, my back now facing him, "Then you'll never get to experience this."

"Good god…" He sucked in a breath. Finally, the man that could put a promo on about anything, hell he could talk about processed cheese and make it interesting, was at a loss for words. Again - mission accomplished.

I reached down to grab my bra and shirting, putting both items of clothing on. "You want me? Don't hurt me again. It's simple. With responsibility comes rewards, I can assure you of that."

And with that, I exited Jon's locker room, acting as if nothing happened as I left his room. Jon, still at a loss for words, probably crumbled and fell apart at the seems. The last time I ever teased a guy like that was…oh, wait. Never! Not once had I ever teased a guy like that, neither verbally or physically.

As the saying goes, "Every woman is a freak, it just takes the right guy to bring the freak out…" And that saying stood true. Jon was bringing the freak out in me…


	11. 3 Months Later

(Possible spoilers for those that have yet to watch or read The Walking Dead comics/television show. Just warning you all! :D Also, this chapter is slightly inspired by The Notebook for one part in particular. If you've ever seen the movie more than once, you'll probably know what I'm talking about… WINK, WINK! :D Anyway, enjoy this chapter, everyone!)

The next three months touring with Combat Zone Wrestling, then back around with Insane Pro Wrestling, Dragon Gate USA, and finally now with Combat Zone Wrestling again; Combat Zone Wrestling this time around was being held in New York. The card that night consisted of a few makeshift matches with Kamikaze USA facing off against a few newcomers to the roster, particularly Jimmy Jacobs; Jon Moxley was facing off against Homicide for one last battle in Homicide's home state of New York City. That was one bout I actually sat down and watched, not just because I was a fan of both guys' work but because there had been talk everywhere about the match. People, fans especially, had been telling me all about it, asking me who I thought would win, who will bleed the most…I really didn't know what to say. The most I could muster up to say to them is the typical "watch and find out" or, since I'm a face, "I hope Jon get's some sense kicked into him." To be honest, I didn't care who won. That match was set to be a bloody, brutal battle fueled by hate and strong words; ultimately Jon came up short, but both men came out bruised and bloody.

As for the me, the match I took part in was nothing too spectacular. I faced off against Jessica Havok for the CZW Women's Championship in a losing effort, only because Jessica Havok cheated to win by pulling on my tights. No big deal, though. Next month, at the annual 'Cage of Death' event, Jessica Havok would be competing against me again for the title in a no disqualification street fight match. Next month's event is set to be held in my hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota. To say that I was happy to be in my hometown for such an event would be an understatement. Aside from the wrestling school I went to which offered a place to showcase my talents and wrestle, I hadn't wrestled in front of my family since then, so it had been a few months. So, of course, now that my wrestling career was actually taking off and people were beginning to recognize me from time to time, it was nice heading back home where there was still a source of normalcy and simplicity. Not only that but my entire family had front row tickets and were going to be there to support me, no matter the outcome of the match. I literally couldn't wait…

While I watched Jon's match on the TV screen behind the curtains I found myself mindlessly chomping down on my nails out of pure nervousness. With every hit that either connected with Jon or every hit that he threw towards Homicide, I cringed. The scariest part of the match was seeing Jon getting power bombed on top of a layer of thumb tacks. I found myself shielding my eyes, seeing him in utter pain and agony. You think I'd be used to seeing this sort of stuff, but pain is something you never get used to. After the match, both men came to the back, covered in blood. As Jon and Homicide were getting medical attention and getting every thumbtack removed and cleaning themselves up, I stood out with the fans, signing autographs, selling merchandise. A lot of people were sympathetic towards my loss; I couldn't help but grin and nod, "Don't worry, I'll get that bitch next month." After every fan had their chance to get a picture with me, autograph, and said their peace, I headed to the back to check on both Jon and Homicide. As soon as I entered the medical room, it was apparent that Jonathan was the one that bit the bullet and took the harshest beating of the two 'cause Homicide had already left to shower and ultimately leave.

Jon, however, was still having thumbtacks removed from his back. His head which had a cut right on his forehead, was cleaned up and bandaged. Jonathan gritted his teeth as every tack was being removed, "God damn it. How many more fucking tacks are there?" He asked, mumbling in the bed. Jonathan didn't look up, so he didn't know I had entered the room.

"There's about 10 left." Jonathan groaned at the number.

I walked over and stood by his side, kneeling down faintly, my hand rubbing his bicep area. Jonathan kind of tensed up, but I kneeled down, whispering in his ear, "It's okay. It's me." Then pressed my lips against his cheek. I stood at a vertical stance once more. I rubbed his arm once more as the last 10 thumbtacks were removed. Jon eventually was cleared to leave and clean up, so we both up and left the room together. Once we were out in the hall, Jon limped here and there, and held his abdominal area, "You okay?" I asked, seeing that he was still in pain.

"I'm fine." He shrugged. We finally reached his locker room. I knew he was just saying that to put my mind at ease, but I wasn't stupid.

I didn't say anything more on the topic. Instead, I changed the subject, "You want to grab a bite to eat with me? We, uh, haven't had that date yet…and I'm sure you're starving."

Jon laughed faintly, "Sure, just give me some time to clean up. About 20 minutes."

I couldn't help but find myself laughing, "Nah, I wanted you to wear your wrestling gear and be covered in blood for this."

"Very funny. Smart ass." I rolled my eyes, turning around to head to my locker room to grab my bags. On the way there I ran into a…uh…friend. Yeah, I'm saying that in the most sarcastic tone ever.

"Trina, what the hell are you doing here?" I said annoyingly. She was there, hanging out in the women's locker room looking in the lockers. Trina turned around, shifting her attention to me. The annoying cameraman she had hanging out with him suddenly turned the camera on the two of us. "Why is it that you and I keep ending up at the same place?" I couldn't help but find myself asking that question, but her presence ruined my mood.

"Just checking this company out." Trina inched closer to me, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor. I folded my arms over my chest, annoyed. "I saw your match earlier, too…" She scoffed, lifting her arm up to look at her nails, then back to me, "When's the last time you were champion?" A faint laugh the exited her mouth, "Oh, wait. That was never! Unlike you, I'm a champion in my own right. I've won awards for my talents…but you, Nicole? What's the most you can do?"

"I can do a whole hell of a lot more than you, Trina." I paused, my entire body tensing as her words became more and more sharp. "Are you really trying to say that YOU'RE better than me? If that was the case, then why did Jon stop hanging around you, and now he's hanging out with me?"

Trina grinned, "Well…he has always had a thing for the skanks." And that was it. I slapped that bitch and her body twisted. She immediately cupped her face, lifting her head back up to face me.

"Get the fuck out of this locker room now!" I said, pointing to the door. "And take your creepy stalker fucking camera man with you!" I ordered.

Trina and her cameraman left, "Fucking bitch!" Trina mouthed as she exited the locker room.

I tilted my head back, letting out a purely annoyed sigh. My body eventually relaxed and I grabbed my bags, heading out to meet up with Jon again. As soon as I reached Jon's door, I couldn't help but vent. "That fucking bitch! She just shows up here and says all that shit to me?" Jon was confused.

"Uh…what the hell are you talking about?"

"That fucking bitch Trina Michaels. What the hell is she doing in CZW now?" Jon let out a groan, annoyed. "She just shows up in the women's locker room and has the audacity to call me…ME…a skank?"

"You're far from a skank. She's just jealous…"

"Right. Jealous of what?"

Jon stopped in his tracks, which I stopped to. Slightly confused. "This." Jon turned to me, pushing my back against the wall, his index finger under my chin to lift my head up as he planted a kiss against my lips. I joined in, standing on the tips of my toes for good measure as my lips meshed against his.

The kiss lasted about 15 seconds before Jon pulled away, smiling. "You really need to do stuff like that more often." I said, grabbing his hand, interlacing it with my own. I couldn't help but ask, "What would you consider us, Jon?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act stupid, Jon. You know _exactly _what I mean…"

Jon and I began to walk as he spoke, "Man…I don't know…aside from you being a total pain in the ass, I guess you would say that you're my girlfriend…you're the only female I can tolerate. And, on top of that, you've kept me in check. You're there for me... Therefore, you, Nicole Jones, are mine."

My heart raced as the words came from his mouth. "Well, get used to it. As soon as I become emotionally attached to someone, I'd do anything for that person…I'm just that type of woman, I guess." I paused as we reached the doors to exit the arena, "I have a big heart."

"Yeah, that's something I'm not used to." I nodded, understanding what he was talking about, to a degree, seeing as he was a complicated person; despite Jonathan telling me part of his childhood, even though he told me quite a bit, I still felt like I knew nothing about him. Again, as I've said before, Jon's a mystery. As soon as we exited the arena and headed out into the streets of the city "that never sleeps" the brisk air brushed against my skin. "So, what would you like to do?" He asked, reaching the sidewalk to flag down a taxi.

"Well…the possibilities are endless, but since I've never been to New York, I really have no idea what the fuck to do here. Um…how about you and I go get some sushi? Isn't there some popular sushi restaurant here?"

"Fuck, like I know…" Jon said, flagging down a yellow taxi.

As we entered the back of the taxi, I asked the cab driver, "What's the best sushi restaurant in New York?"

"Nobu, it's about 20 minutes away. They're open until 2 in the morning." I looked at the clock on his radio, it was 11 o'clock at night.

I turned to Jon, he nodded, "Alright, we'll go there."

We headed off to Nobu, eventually heading into the building. The cream-colored walls, powdered with tan, and then the accent color of fuchsia was a real nice mix. The accent color really popped against the plain walls. Jon and I eventually were seated, opting to order some water and a sampler of sushi. Over dinner, Jon talked about some various things, ranging from some more stories his childhood, where he grew up, and some of his favorite things. He asked me about my childhood, which wasn't anything too out of the ordinary…my story was bleak and boring compared to his. The topic that really seemed to catch Jon's attention was the story on how I became a wrestler and actually, like his friend Sami Callihan, lost weight to become the woman I am today. Before wrestling, I hadn't been an athlete. I was more of a video game, computer nerd. We began swapping stories over that, then eventually going more into detail about how wrestling saved us. We had that same connection. I was bullied, as was Jon, and wrestling saved us in a way. We had something to look forward to every week, despite the daily hell we both had to go through… Once dinner was over we both left some money paying for the bill, and eventually left the restaurant, flagging down another taxi to venture on over to our hotel.

Once we reached the hotel and were entering the elevator, I couldn't help but exclaim, "Can't believe I've known you for almost 4 months now…" I grabbed both of his hands, interlacing them with my own. Our elevator began going up to the 10th floor.

"Time flies, it's crazy." He mumbled.

"Will you stay with me?" I asked, resting the side of my head against his chest, completely exhausted. I knew he was in pain from the match he took part in earlier, and I wanted to be there in case he needed anything.

"Sure." He said, pecking his lips against my forehead. We reached the 10th floor finally, then headed out into the hallway reaching my hotel room door '1021.' I slid the car key into entry, walking in first. I turned the lights on, placing my bag on the floor next to the end of my bed.

"There's two beds here, so you won't have to sleep on the floor this time." I said graciously.

"If there was only one bed, I'd force you to sleep on the floor anyway." He said, laying down on the second bed, "I'm the one in pain."

A laugh escaped my lips as I slipped my jacket and shoes off, "Quit complaining!" I said, pulling my hair back into a pony tail. My eyes darted to the TV that he turned on. He turned it on to AMC, where they were broadcasting old episodes of The Walking Dead, "Holy shit! This is my favorite show!"

Jon nodded, "One of mine, too, actually. Breaking Bad is a good show as well."

"So I've heard. I haven't checked that one out yet." I took a seat on the other bed, resting my head against the pillow.

We watched the episode in silence; it was the first episode of the first season. Man, even though I had seen every episode thus far at least 20 times, I could still re-watch it and be amazed. That's how good the show is.

"You see how Rick feels after being shot? Laying on the ground and getting covered in blood?" Jon exclaimed. I nodded, slightly confused. "That's how I felt in that ring. I could barely fathom what the fuck kind of pain I was feeling."

"You're complaining again…" I grabbed a pillow, throwing it his way. Jon laughed. Then I stood up, heading over to the side of his bed, tumbling over him. I swung my leg over his hip, eventually straddling him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, confused.

I grinned, an evil laugh then followed, "I think it's time for you to be teased again." I lifted my shirt over my head, revealing a white lace push up bra, "Only, I have a surprise for you." I got off of the bed, grabbing my bag. "You see, I have a photoshoot coming up and can't seem to make up my mind on what to wear." I slowly began to unzip my pants, "So, you, Jonathan Good, are going to help me choose." I entered the bathroom, poking my head out from behind the door, "I'll be back in a jiffy." Jon was suddenly focused solely on me…especially when I exited the bathroom. I had a silk black robe covering my body and the attire that I wanted him to help me review. My brunette locks were still tied back in a pony tail. I slowly approached the door, slowly untying the robe as I said every word, "You've been a relatively good boy lately, so that's why I'm letting you decide on this with me." I stood at the side of the bed, opening up the robe to reveal a sexy little lingerie set. It was a tight black with purple lace corset complete with a black garter belt and stockings. A silky purple bow at the back of the garter belt at the hem was my favorite part of it, honestly. I posed slightly, "What do you think?"

Jon swallowed hard, his eyes shifting up and down my body, "You should wear that more often…"

"Very funny. I'm serious, what do you think?"

"Very, very hot." Jon stood up from the bed, placing both of his hands on my hips, "So you're just going to think you're going to get away with this, huh?"

I cocked my head to the side, "What do you mean?"

Jon cleared his throat, "Teasing me? Please, you're not getting out of this one." Jon's hand roamed up to my hair, gently pulling the pony tail out. I whispered his name, but it wasn't audible. "You know you want this." Jon forced my hand to roam down his body and on his cock covered by his blue jeans.

"Jon…" I sighed, pulling my arm away. "I don't know if I'm ready for this…"

"God damn it, Nicole. This teasing bullshit is ridiculous. You sit there and dangle your shit right in front me, then not allow me to do anything more? That's the evilest fucking thing ever."

"I just don't want this relationship to be filled with just sex…"

Jon stood up, merely inches from my face, "Listen to me right now…our relationship isn't going to be filled with just sex. I'm a big enough man to admit the fact that I've really began to develop strong feelings for you. You can't stand there and tell me you don't feel the same."

I couldn't keep that secret in anymore. "I know, Jon. I've really grown to like you, but, Jon…" Jon cupped my face forcing me to shut up, kissing my lips once more. I fell backwards against the other bed; he was on top of me, his tongue wrestling against mine. "Jon…" I let out an expressive sigh, not as if I was disappointed, but as if I was turned on. My heart thumped against my chest as Jon pulled his t-shirt over his head. I reached down, unzipping his pants. I bit down on my lips, "I'm…I'm a little nervous…" I stammered, my voice a little shaky.

Jon sighed, "If you really don't want to do this, we don't have to." He pushed my hands away as I grabbed the sides of his jeans.

"Babe," I said faintly. "I do, but …I'm just nervous. It's been almost 8 months since I had sex last and, well, I just don't want to-" Aside from the creepy encounter with that stalker fan, but that didn't count. It wasn't consensual, it was rape…therefore, I tried my best to forget about it again…

He cut me off again. "I'll be gentle." He said, leaning down to press his lips against mine. I instinctively tilted my head back, his lips roaming down my chin and eventually reaching my neck. I let out light moans. My hands ran up his muscular arms, uttering his name against his ear.

Jon lifted his head up, unclasping the garter belt clasp that rested on each thigh. His hands then roamed up my thighs and pulled the tight black thong against my skin down my ankles and throwing it on to the floor. He then brought his own jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to come through. I breathed heavily, taking a gander at his manhood. "Jon…" My voice was low, "Fuck me…" I begged, my voice was shaky and low. Jon nodded, leaning down. I spaced my legs out just enough to give Jon some room. He leaned down against my midsection, pressing his lips against mine once more. The tip of his cock entered my pussy. I let out a faint sigh, clenching my eyes. Jon breathed against my skin as he slowly went in and out, keeping the rhythm and speed up as the juices began to coat my walls. "Jon…" I let out a moan, my eyes flying open as he picked up the speed, little by little.

He remained slow and as gentle as possible, grunting as he picked up the pace… I winced in pain. I trembled, "You okay?" He asked against the side of my face, gently intertwining my hand with his. My voice was shaky, but I managed to whisper, "I'm fine…" I moved my legs up, allowing easier access as he pushed deeper inside my walls. He let out some faint moans, leaning down to press his lips against mine. I couldn't help myself by biting down on his lower lip as he pulled away. Both of my hands roamed up his muscular arms, eventually reaching his neck. I tugged at the back of his hair, sweat forming as our body temperatures continued to rise.

Jon grunted, thrusting inside me a few more times. Pre-cum began to form at the tip of Jon's cock. Jon thrusted one last time, releasing a light layer of pre-cum inside of me. He pulled out, looking down into my eyes. I let out some heavy breaths, and finally spoke after some silence among the two of us breathing, "All this time, that's what I've been missing?" I asked rhetorically, arching my back slightly. I let out a sigh as I spoke once more, "Let's do it again!" I exclaimed.

Jon nodded, gently pushing his cock inside me once more. He thrusted much faster and harder than before; his cock entered inside me even farther than before. I felt myself at a loss for words…all I could do at that point was mumble some words and his name. "Fuck, Nicole!" He grunted.

I reached behind me, grabbing the headboard for support as it slammed against the wall. "Oh, God!" I gritted my teeth, my eyes clammed shut as I felt myself on the verge of reaching an orgasm. "Jon…baby…don't stop!" I begged once more. He rolled his hips slightly, pushing harder and deeper into my body.

"Fuck!" He grunted, one of his hands grabbing a hold of my hair, while the other reached downward, grabbing a hold of my thigh, giving him even more access to thrust harder and deeper inside of me. I dug my nails deep into the back of his neck with one hand, the other hand grabbing a hold of the back of his hair, pulling.

"Oh, God!" I moaned. "Jon!" And as I let out his name, Jon and I both reached a climax together. Our cum mixed together. He released inside me, letting out one final thrust for good measure. Jon tumbled over to the other side of the bed beside me. I panted, trying to catch my breath. After about 15 seconds, I turned to my side, the tips of my hand circling his bare chest that was now covered in sweat, cascading down his side. I really didn't know what to say… Jon and I just had sex for the first time and it was purely amazing. He was gentle like he promised and when I begged for him not to stop, he didn't. He found the strength, despite being exhausted and in pain, to push harder and deeper into my body.

"I…I didn't wear a condom." He stammered. His voice was low, worry shined through the most.

I rested the side of my head against his bare chest, "It's okay, babe…I have my own source of protection." As I rested against his bare chest, I turned my head, gently pecking his chest. "No need to worry, Jonathan."

"You're trying to kill me, woman." He sat up against the headboard; I could tell that he was exhausted.

I sat up, pressing my lips against his neck. "Not yet." I said jokingly, my hand collapsing over his chest. I rested my head against the pillow. For what it's worth, I mumbled some final words before closing my eyes to get some sleep. "I love you, Jon." But Jon didn't notice it because my voice was low. I'm sort of glad that Jon didn't hear it; I didn't want to rush into things with him. However, those 3 words 'I love you' yeah…I meant it with every fiber of my being… Jon and I fell asleep as exhaustion took over. We fell victim to our bodies need of sleep…but together. It was a perfect moment among the two of us; I was happy, he was happy. That's all I wanted out of this relationship with Jon…to make him happy.


	12. Backstage Scuffle

Jon and I, even though growing closer for nearly 4 months, became official last night. Whatever label you wanted to put us under… boyfriend/girlfriend, a couple; whatever you want to label us as, we were that. The only thing I didn't want our relationship to be labeled under was fuck buddies. I wanted more than that. Last night, Jon assured me that our passion for one another was far more than that. Jon seemed to be on the same page, but his expression was bleak and hard to read; always has been.

We awoke when my phone's alarm went off next to the bed, right at 6 in the morning. I peeled my eyes open, yawning slightly, against Jon's bare chest. My lower pelvic area and abdominal area was slightly in pain due to the previous nights events, but well worth it. I was still resting the side of my head against his bare chest. I traced circles around his pectoral muscles as he slowly groaned to wake up, "Good morning." I whispered, gently pecking against his pectoral muscle.

He groaned once more, tensing his body a little, "Morning." He mumbled as a yawn followed his behind his word. Clearly he wasn't a morning person. I wasn't either, but it's something you have to get used to. I eventually sat up and got off the bed, grabbing my phone to turn the alarm off. I grabbed my bag, pulling out some clothes and, more importantly, my birth control pills. "You are protected, aren't you?" Jon said, looking down at my box of birth control.

I nodded, taking a pill out, then grabbing a cup and headed in to the bathroom, swallowing the pill whole. "Yeah, I take precaution. Haven't you ever-" I spoke up, but Jon immediately shook his head, knowing what type of question I was asking. "Oh, I see…"

He had an explanation. "I had always fucked around with women with no protection. Nothing…never thought I'd need condoms. I mean, sex never really meant anything to me." Jon shrugged. I sighed, thinking the worst, but Jon spoke up, "But with you, I felt a connection." I looked up at his face, a smile gracing my lips. I couldn't help it. This Jon made my heart melt. "It might have been short, not just because we we're both exhausted, but you told me you hadn't had sex in nearly 8 months…even with sex the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you in anyway." Jon was suddenly cupping my face, sincere with his words, "You've been hurt enough in the last few months, both professionally and personally, so I don't want to be the source of that, Nicole." He leaned in to press his lips against mine before pulling away.

During the kiss I found myself closing my eyes, so I opened them, looking directly into his eyes, "Why can't you be this sweet all the time?" I said, a faint laugh leaving my mouth. I reached out, grabbing both of his hands. "Today's our last day in New York." I said, my voice was weak. I've had barely any time to explore the city that never sleeps.

"I can't wait to leave this damn place. I hate New York City." Jon scoffed, his voice was low and rugged.

"You might just be the biggest Debbie downer I know, Jonathan. You know that?" I gently balled my fist up, punching his arm. Jon laughed, of course. "On a serious note, let's get showered and head out for some breakfast at least?" Jon nodded, heading into the bathroom first. Shortly after he was done showering and getting dressed, I headed into the bathroom as well to get what I needed to get done.

X

In the few hours that Jon and I had before we headed to the arena we spent it going out for some coffee and some breakfast, did some sightseeing, and we even ran into the cast of Law & Order: SVU! I had a bit of a "mark out" moment when I was lucky enough to meet the actor that portrayed Elliot Stabler. Man, that was awesome. Granted he was busy with filming, I still took the opportunity to say a few words and tell him how sad I was knowing that he'd be leaving the show… Aside from all that, Jon and I spent the few hours together. It was nice, especially knowing that tomorrow we'd be going our separate ways again. I knew we'd see each other again, but it still sucked that we'd be going our separate ways again, especially since we officially became a 'couple' yesterday. I mean, I think we were a couple? Jon never really elaborated on it, aside from saying that I basically became his girlfriend since I'm the only chick he can seem to tolerate, and knowing that made me happy, even though I was a pain in the ass, which I knew that.

After spending a few hours with Jon, exploring New York City, we headed into the arena and went our separate ways; me to the women's locker room and Jon went off to his locker room. It finally hit me when I entered the arena that tonight was special. Tonight was the last night the character known as 'Jon Moxley' would be making an appearance in Combat Zone Wrestling, due to his contract with WWE. In order for him to join WWE's roster, he'd have to finish out his current ties with the independent promotions, especially the ones he'd made a name for himself with. As sad as it was, I was happy to be here with Jon. I knew, despite him not showing any emotions, he was emotional tonight, not that he'd admit it; every fan, like him or not, knew that he'd go on to make an impact in World Wrestling Entertainment and I couldn't wait to see the career of Jon Moxley expand in WWE. His final match with independent wrestling was coming up at Evolve Wrestling, where he'd be facing off against the 'Greatest Man That Ever Lived' Austin Aries. I personally wouldn't be participating in the show, but Jon wanted me to be at the show to witness his final match as an independent wrestler… Fuck, I had better not find myself crying on that night…

Back on the topic of the show tonight I didn't have a match scheduled for the night, seeing as every other female roster in Combat Zone Wrestling was away for the weekend. In CZW there was only 2 other female wrestlers; Christina Von Eerie and Jessica Havok, which they both were home for the weekend. With a few hours before the show would begin, I figured, why not take up the opportunity to train with some of the guys in the ring? I might as well. Practice makes perfect, as the saying goes. When I left the women's locker room I grabbed a water bottle from the catering area and headed in to the ring area where a few CZW personnel were setting up the shows, lighting, and testing out the sound aspects of the arena, making sure the speakers worked to their full capacity and what not. I, wearing my hair up into a messy ponytail, black Ed Hardy sweatshirts with a skull decal on the right thigh area, and a red tank top, I was ready to train. To begin, I stretched my body out for about 10 minutes, then ran the ropes to get my cardio up. After a while, I practiced my bumping, by falling on my bag, tucking my head. You can't forget to tuck your head or you'll knock yourself out, guaranteed. I would know - the first time I bumped I nearly knocked myself silly. That, and the workout was so vigorous I threw up twice from the extensive training. But damn did all of that hard work pay off now.

About 30 minutes in to practicing everything out came Jon Moxley. I was sweating, my inner forearms were beet red from hitting the ropes, and my hair was a mess. Job well done, but ugh… I really didn't want to run into Jon looking like _this_. I stopped, wiping my sweaty face on my forearm, then grabbed my water bottle resting in the turnbuckle corner, staring at Jon as took a swig. "Don't stop practicing just 'cause I'm here." He paused, now resting his arms against the ring apron, "I'm here to observe." Jon smirked.

I rolled my eyes, playfully of course, "Please…" I said sarcastically. "I swear, if you make any smart ass comments, I'll drop kick your face." Jon couldn't help but grin. I knew he'd say something eventually. "Why don't you come in here and train with me? Since you," I paused, catching my breath, standing against the ring ropes where Jon stood on the matted floor. I stared down at him, "You are all big and bad. Get in the ring. Don't be a pussy!" I laughed.

"Be careful what you wish for." Jon warned, pulling on the middle rope to pull himself up into the squared circle. I hopped in place, laughing.

Jon and I immediately tied up, typically a way a match starts. We eventually led into a arm bar, he countered it, and I eventually was set up for a power bomb. I countered with a hurricarana, which is a move I didn't do all that often, as I was still learning. "Get up, babe!" I pointed to him, curling my finger, taunting him. Jon came charging at me, going for a clothesline, but I ducked under his arm, then came charging towards him, Leu Thesz pressing him. Jon fell back against the mat, and I sat on top of him, arching my back to grab his left leg for the cover. I yelled out the numbers, "1...2...3! I win!" Jon was defeated. I stood up, laughing and lifting my arms up as if I actually won a match to rub it in his face. Jon came up from behind me, pinching my ass. "HEY!" I turned around, giggling. He had this smirk on his face. "Don't pinch my damn ass. I hate that!" I playfully punched his arm, he blocked it, cupping my entire body, planting a kiss on my lips. I couldn't help but join in for a quick kiss.

I exited the ring, nearly 45 minutes of working out and training was good enough for today, seeing as I didn't have a match or anything to prepare for. Jon kept on training in the ring once some of the other roster came in and joined. I headed to the back to cool down and call my friend Alice. It was nearing 5 o'clock in the afternoon here, which meant it was 4 o'clock back in Minnesota. I immediately pulled my iPhone out, dialing Alice's number. After waiting about 10 seconds for her to pick up, she finally did. "Hey bitch!" I said ecstatically.

"Hey, hoe bag!" We always had fun calling each other names. Only the best of friends would call each other that and not get offended. I couldn't help but laugh at her calling me a hoe bag. "What's up?" She finally asked.

"Not much, just chilling backstage at this wrestling show." I took a swig of my water, "I finally hung out with Jonathan again." Chomping down at my lower lip, I had finally confessed.

Alice, judging by how her voice changed, sprung up, "Oh my god! Dish!" She demanded. I really didn't know what to say.

"Well, we hung out last night and had sushi. Then went back to my hotel room and watched The Walking Dead." I couldn't help but laugh. And, also, I didn't mention the fact that I had sex with Jon last night either. Alice didn't need to know of that. And plus, I didn't want to find myself bragging about it. That was something intimate between the two of us; the whole world didn't need to know. "He's a real sweet, sweet guy behind his 'fuck you' tough-guy mentality. You'll have to meet him sometime. You'll understand why I eventually fell for him..."

"The way you talk about him, he sounds like a charmer. But I really hope and pray he doesn't hurt you. It's hard trusting people these days, in relationships especially. And the fact that you two are in the public eye, girls always flaunting themselves at him and guys using cheesy pickup lines on you…I just hope Jon doesn't give in. I know you won't give in to cheap, stupid pick up lines 'cause you're smarter than that and have morals." Alice paused for a split second, only to speak once more. "But Jon, since I don't know the guy and from the different stuff you've told me, I really hope he doesn't hurt you, Nicole. You deserve to be happy."

"Fuck…everyone deserves to be happy. It's just some people don't know how to be happy. I used to be unhappy in life. Remember me in high school? I was the awkward, anti-social chick that wore punk t-shirts. And I was fat."

"Shut up, Nicole! You weren't fat!"

"Alright, I am fat." I joked. "On a serious note, I wasn't as in-shape as I am now. I actually have abs and can wear anything without feeling self conscious. Having confidence…that makes me happy. And with this new found confidence, I think that's why I've made it so far in the wrestling business. That's also what makes me happy." I took another drink of my water. "And then there's Jon…yeah, Alice, he can be a smart ass and a dick at times, but what person isn't? I can be a smart ass, too. But that doesn't mean I'm like that 24/7."

"I get that, Nicole. My point is, I just don't want you getting hurt in this."

I finally gave up arguing. Admitting defeat. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I know you're just trying to be a good best friend and look out for me…"

"Exactly. And I just don't want Jon to end up being like your ex Robert-"

"Please stop bringing _that _jackass up." I rolled my eyes, annoyed. The thought of my ex made my blood boil.

"You remember what he did to you…"

"Of course I remember. I experienced everything, Alice. I'd rather keep those memories out of my head as much as possible." Memories of him came flashing through my mind. Replaying over and over. This was the last thing I wanted… "Now you have _those _memories replaying in my head…thanks."

"Think of Channing Tatum and Leonardo DiCaprio." Those two men, my favorite actors actually, flooded my brain. "Problem solved."

I chuckled. "You're a fucking lifesaver, my dear…and if Robert ever came near me, all I'd have to do is tell Jon this 'strange guy' is bothering me and bam…he's done for. Jonathan doesn't fuck around with that shit. I swear, you'll meet him soon…then you'll understand, Alice."

"So, I take it he's protective?"

"Very, very protective. You, uh, you…you remember when that creepy stalker fan attacked me? I called Jon right afterward. He was so pissed. Not at me, but at the fact that he could've been there when it happened and he could've prevented it. And I had only known the man for a damn week!"

"Damn, that's deep." Alice suddenly pulled out a cigarette. I could hear her exhaling, then sucking in the nicotine.

"I told you! He's an amazing man. I'll see if he's up to visiting good 'ol Minnesota with me tomorrow, then you can meet him."

"Sounds like a plan! Hopefully he can come out with you."

"Yeah, hopefully…" I suddenly heard a knock at the locker room door. I turned around to see Trina fucking Michaels. I immediately turned around, the back of my head facing the bitch. The tone in my voice immediately shifted south. Trina's presence pissed me off, "I have to fucking go. I'll call you later, Alice." Alice didn't really know what to say, but I cut her off in mid-sentence. I'd call her later to explain. I immediately stood up to a vertical stance, turning around to face Trina, "You popping up out of no where is fucking annoying, Trina. What in the fuck do you want?"

"Excuse you! I haven't even said anything and you're just going off on me like that?" Trina was offended. Aw, poor girl. Not.

"Believe me, you don't have to open up your trap to piss me off…" I darted past her, towards the mirror area. "You should just leave before I slap you again." I was focusing on applying powder to my face when Trina had the audacity to put her grimy fingers on my arm, forcing me to face her. I pulled my arm away as if she was a damn insect. Well, she was, but…whatever. You get what I mean.

She began to explain herself, "No need to get violent!" I rolled my eyes. She continued to run her mouth, "You obviously know it's Jon's last night in CZW…" I nodded, my expression was bleak. My facial expression basically read 'no shit, you fucking idiot.' "Why don't you and I give him a celebration he'll never forget. If you catch my drift."

My eyes shifted over to Trina, glaring at her, "I swear to God, Trina. If you go anywhere near him…I will kick your ass and you won't be able to walk." I paused for a second, "And trust me, he doesn't want anything to do with you. He has me." I finally confessed. "That's all that he wants and needs. He hasn't spoken to you in the last 3 months-"

"Are you positive on that?" Trina cocked her head to the side. "I actually spoke to him a few days ago…poor guy was so fucking horny and had pent up frustration…he had to release all of it somehow, but you kept shooing him away…so he came crawling back to me…and let me tell you, his angry sex is the best…" Trina chuckled, pure evil exuding from her.

She was lying. She had to be…

"Trina…unless you want to end up with a bloody face, I suggest you get away from me." The tone in my voice was low; I was very straight-forward with her. I didn't want to fight her 'cause I knew she wasn't worth it, and it wasn't like I went asking for trouble, Trina did, but the fact that Trina keeps egging me on, things were going to get real ugly real fucking fast.

"Or what?" Trina was in my face, I backed away a little, but she kept inching closer to me. "Huh? What are you going to do? That's right, you're not going to do shit. You're a coward and a loser, Nicole. That's all you'll ever amount to. You'll never be anything in this business." I rolled my eyes. Trina was wrong. Way wrong. I had been hearing that bullshit since I began wrestling…yet look at how far I've made it so far. "Hey…hey," She touched my face, forcing me to look at her right in the eyes. She shifted her eyes down my body.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I shooed her hands away from my face, eventually pushing Trina out of my face. Trina lifted her right hand, slapping me.

I stood there as slapped me. Almost immediately, I raised my hand up again, slapping Trina back. This time, I did it twice. Then I eventually grabbed a hold of the back of her head, crashing it against the tiled wall near the mirror. "Fucking bitch!" I yelled grabbing a hold of her hair again, eventually going to drag her out into the halls, but she eventually got the better of me but pushing me back against the wall with all her strength. I gritted my teeth in pain. Trina balled her fists up, punching me right square in the face. I closed my eyes as every hit came crashing down on my face. After about the 6th hit, I tackled Trina to the tiled floor, whaling down on her face with my fists. I eventually felt the hands of two men grabbing my body, then another holding Trina back. It was CZW security. "Keep that fucking bitch away from me!" I screamed. Trina's face was swollen and her lip was bloody. My lip was bleeding, too. There was also a tiny cut just above my right eyebrow. After four months of tormenting done by Trina Michaels, I had finally had enough. From the constant side comments to her dragging my friendship with Jonathan into everything, it was time for a damn fight. And therefore, a fight she got.

"Let me go, let me go!" I ordered, struggling to pull away from the two security guards' arms. "I'm cool, I'm cool. Now let me go!" The security guards reluctantly let go of my arms.

Trina was still standing there, catching her breath. "Is that all you got? Really? No wonder Jonathan always comes crawling back to me. You're weak!" I charged at Trina, jumping up into the air just enough to punch Trina in the face again. She fell backwards, the security guards caught her.

The other two guards that were holding me back grabbed me again. "You either cool down now, or we're calling the police, Nicole! Now!" Why was I getting in trouble for this? Trina was egging me on the entire fucking time.

"What about Trina? She's the one that keeps dragging this out with her fucking side comments!" I raised my arm up, pointing at her. One guard had a hold of my waist, while the other held on to one of my arms in front of me. "Keep her away from me at all times and this won't happen. But I swear to God, if she comes near me again-"

"That's enough!" The guard, who was holding my waist, said. "Take Trina somewhere else!" He ordered at the two men holding Trina down. I looked at her bloody lip and smiled. She deserved it. Every single hit and punch that came her way. She deserved every fucking thing. And if she came near me again, she'd get hit again.

All the commotion caused nearly half the roster, including Jon, to come spilling out of the locker room. Jon stood there behind me, "What the fuck is going on?" He asked me, standing behind the security guards and myself. Fuck, how do I word this with Trina standing in front of me.

Oh, no need to filter it or sugar coat anything. "This fucking bitch," Trina stood at attention, gritting her teeth, starting to speak up, but I raised my voice higher than hers, "THIS FUCKING BITCH decides to get in my face and has made my life a living fucking hell for the past four months…" She started talking over me, so I raised my voice even more, "All because I have everything that she wants and am better than she will EVER be!" My eyes shifted to Jon, smirking.

"That's it! Get Trina out of here!" One of the security guards ordered, eventually pulling Trina out of my sight. The two security guards that kept me in one spot eventually loosened their grip, letting me go.

I stood there awkwardly, a bloody lip and small, tiny cut above my eyebrow. All of a sudden, I started laughing. Manically, almost.

Then the promoter, Larry, came strolling down the hallway. He was livid. "What in the HELL happened just now, Nicole?!" He demanded an answer, his face red and veins popping out from behind his skin. He shifted his eyes to my face, seeing the tiny bit of blood on my lip and the cut above my brow.

My grin suddenly left my face and I sucked in a deep breath, not sure what to say. But instead of keeping it in, trying to blank out what happened, being verbally attacked by Trina Michaels, I finally spoke up, "Simple. Your self-proclaimed best asset here in CZW, Trina Michaels, verbally attacked me then physically attacked me. She's been fucking with me for nearly four months now." I said with pure honesty. No point in lying, right? Jon stood there, listening to everything. He didn't even flinch. He didn't know what the hell to say… I think. "I'm sorry for getting out of line, but when she continually pushes me, there's a line that was crossed tonight. Sorry, Larry." I sucked in another breath as I wiped away the blood from my lip, "If she bothers me again, I can't make any promises…but…"

"You're not going to attack her again, you understand me? Trina's a great asset to the company." I couldn't help but grin again, like I was offended. What asset did she bring to Combat Zone Wrestling? Oh, yeah. Another set of tits and ass. Right.

I bit my tongue, not wanting to say what I really thought at that remark. "I got ya." I swallowed my spit hard. Larry nodded, eventually walking away. All that was left in the hallway was Jon and I. I turned to face him, "Why didn't you say anything? Huh, why?"

"I'd rather not get involved."

"You could have at least said something to Larry!" I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest. "Trina's been bothering me ever since my first night in Dragon Gate. Ask Reby and Christina, they were there with me when it all went down four months ago."

"Why are you letting her get to you of all people? Jesus, Nicole."

"I have my reasons." I glared at him.

Jon rolled his eyes, "Fuck. I have a match to get ready for. I'll see you afterwards, alright? Try to calm the hell down." Jon ordered. I sighed, rolling my eyes. I eventually nodded and Jon walked to the locker room to prepare. I gotta say, at least Trina and I finally had a scuffle and she got what was coming to her all along.

* * *

(Short chapter for the most part. I rewrote this chapter like 10 times. Still not satisfied with this, but whatever. Consider this chapter a filler... I'll try to get this story updated shortly... ;D)


	13. Evolve 7

Combat Zone Wrestling's show in New York City ended in what seemed like a flash. Before I knew it, I was witnessing Jon's farewell match and speech in CZW. Jon went into detail about how CZW put him on the map and boosted his wrestling career, giving people a look at how violent and how intense of a wrestling character he could be. I looked past that. Jon's wrestling character was a bit over exaggerated, but for the most part, Jon Moxley was Jonathan Good. He used materiel for his promos for stuff that he went through in real life and his wrestling move set was very rugged and dangerous, which was how Jon truly was. I stood there watching his farewell speech, completely amazed. His comedic, sarcastic side is what got me the most. "I can only say fuck for a few more days, so fuck…" The crowd busted into a mixture of the word fuck chant and laughter. It was awesome. He ended it with grabbing a stapler gun and, like he had previously done many times before, stapling himself in the thigh area. Typical Jon, always resorting to violence.

Now onto his final match in all of independent wrestling at Evolve Wrestling before he'd be off in WWE making an illustrious career out of what he had already done. Jon worked his ass of to make a name for himself in the independent circuit; tonight, he was facing off against the Greatest Man that Ever Lived, Austin Aries, in his final independent wrestling match. Don't get me wrong, I was happy to see Jonathan Good off making a name and making 10x more money than he already was in World Wrestling Entertainment but this meant that him and I would rarely be seeing each other anymore. There wouldn't be anymore sporadic times that we'd be at a show together. He'd be off in WWE's sacred circle, no ties to independent wrestling whatsoever was allowed, so the only time we'd see each other at this rate was if he had a show in Minnesota, which was rare, or if he managed to find the time to fly out to Minnesota. At this rate, part of me wanted to take up his offer on living out there in Cincinnati, Ohio with him, but I didn't want to rush this relationship more than we already have.

As hard as it might be to believe for some of you, since Jon and I had sex a few months ago, we've taken things extremely slow since then. The most thing we've done is make out in a movie theater or in the comfort of our own homes. That's it. He's cleaned himself up by staying away from alcohol as much as possible, kept away from random sex partners, and his love for pain killers has died down in the last few months. The Jonathan Good I met a few months ago was still there as far as being sarcastic and a bit of a jerk at times, but he's changed. He looks healthy in every form of the word. I'll only admit this now, but it seems as if Alice was right. Jon was in need of someone to come into his life, change him for the better. I loved the fact that I'm that woman he was looking for… I admired that, actually. It made me feel good and made me feel real confident in myself. Something must've happened in the last CZW show, too, because Trina Michaels hadn't bothered me since our backstage scuffle. She acted like I didn't even exist, which was fine. She didn't bother me, I didn't bother her.

X

April 19th, 2011...Evolve Wrestling was here. Jon's match was the main event of the show. I stepped up to his door, still cooling down from the match I just took part in roughly 20 minutes ago. Jon's match was coming up in about a half an hour. I gently knocked on his door 3 times, "Jon, babe?" I slowly opened the door, sliding into the room. His back was facing the door as he sat in a folding chair, lacing up his black wrestling boots. "You ready?" I asked, coming up behind him. I kneeled down, resting my chin on his shoulder, pecking the side of his face.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Nervous, but I'm ready." Jon's voice was low. I was surprised he actually admitted that he was nervous; I never thought I'd hear that word come out of Jon's mouth. He was always so confident and had this fearful demeanor to him, especially before a match. As Jon continued to speak, I stood back up to a vertical stance, pressing both of my hands against his shoulder's, massaging his shoulder blade and neck area gently. "If you tell anyone I said that I'm nervous, I'll kill you." Jon said jokingly. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I wont, you should trust me on that by now." Jonathan tilted his head back. I leaned down, pressing my lips against his. A makeshift upside down kiss, sort of? Whatever you want to call it. "Jon?" I called out as we pulled apart.

"What?" He whispered.

"Good luck tonight." I caressed his lips against mine again, eventually finding myself in front of his chair instead of behind him, and straddling him as he sat in the chair. Jonathan wrapped his arms around my waist. In the span of about a 30 second kiss, Jon and I pulled apart and took a second to gaze into each other's eyes. If my timing was right, Jon and I had known each other for about 6 months now and have been together for 3 going on 4. Everything was looking up. We were both on the same page. I just had to finally say it, loud enough for him to hear it this time. No more mumbling it due to exhaustion, no more encrypting the words, just plain saying it. The three words that mean the most…something that Jonathan rarely heard. "I love you." I found myself biting down on my lip.

He was quiet for a second, which terrified me. Maybe saying that wasn't a good idea. I mean, saying that was a big step and change in our relationship, so the last thing I wanted was for everything to be awkward and weird all because I confessed my true feeling for Jonathan. Then, he finally parted his lips to speak, "I love you, too, Nicole." I couldn't help but grin hearing those words, "Fuck, you changed me. I'm still going to be that sarcastic asshole that everyone knows and loves, but you changed me for the better. Hell, I'm not into painkillers anymore, hardly any alcohol, and I damn sure haven't fucked around with anymore chicks recently." I fought back tears hearing his words. He was finally opening up to me, which was all I asked out of him. Hearing those words spilling out of his mouth just now just confirmed that Alice was right. I pecked my lips against his chin area before trailing down to the side of his neck, he continued to speak, but in nothing more than a faint whisper, "You're the one person that hasn't up and walked out of my life when I made a mistake. I love you for that. When you discovered that I had some whore hanging around with me or Trina Michaels, you were pissed at me, yeah, but you stuck around. Through thick and thin, you've been there for me, Nicole." I found myself kissing his lips once more. His words were so gratifying and direct. They hit my heart like a damn freight train, not that I was complaining about it though. "Hell, I don't even think I deserve a great woman such as yourself…"

"Oh, stop! You're just boosting my ego." I managed to say, muffling against his neck. I couldn't help but laugh. His words were as sweet as sugar for the most part, but the final sentence was something I just had to giggle at. I gently punched his arm.

"I'm serious!" Jon exclaimed, laughing as I punched his arm. He wrapped his arms around my waist tightly.

"Well, since you're serious about it, the kind words are appreciated Jonathan. I really am going to miss you, but I know you're on to bigger and better things from here." I interwoven his hands with my own, "You're going to be something special in the wrestling business, I know you will be. I just wanted to come here and say that, especially knowing that this'll be your final independent wrestling show, so we won't see each other for a long time." I paused, a few tears streaming down my face, "Just wanted to wish you good luck tonight, babe."

"I don't need luck, but thank you." He shrugged. I swung my leg over onto the concrete ground, standing on my own feet again, allowing Jon to stand up, seeing as he'd have to head to the entrance area. "You can, uh, come out during my final speech if you'd like? I know Sami, Jigsaw, and a few others will be coming out from what I've heard." Jon turned around to grab his jacket which had the sleeves cut off and the word 'MOX' spray painted down the spine area in red. As he put the jacket on, Jonathan turned to me, tucking his index finger under my chin, bringing my face up, "Besides, I might as well have my girlfriend out there with me. Right?" I nodded carelessly, a faint smile overcoming my lips. Jon leaned down to kiss my lips before turning off to head to the entrance area.

"Jon?" I called out as he swung his door open. He turned around, I ran up to him, hugging him. "I love you." I said yet again, subdued beside his upper torso. His heartbeat echoed in my cranium, almost like an dulcet serenade. My words were more sincere and heartfelt this time around; Jon wrapped his arms around me.

Since he stood over me being at 6'4", Jon pecked the top of my head as his hands wrapped around my shoulder and waist area. "I love you, too." He whispered against my ear before heading off to the entrance area. Jon's final match in independent wrestling as a whole was in about 10-15 minutes, which gave me enough time to shower and get dressed in some regular street clothes. I showered, not washing my hair or face, though, due to having make up on and my hair still looked semi-decent. Just had to brush through it. My body was clean now, and instead of smelling like sweat, I smelled like French vanilla. I put on some ripped jeans at the knees and a simple, tight t-shirt. The shirt I wore was actually a 'Explicit Mox Violence' shirt. Might as well show my support in the best way, right? Wearing Jon's shirt was like back in high school - or at least in those 80's movies - where the guy would give their girlfriend their varsity jacket to wear around. Well, that's what I was doing for Jon tonight.

Just in the nick of time, I wondered down the halls just as Austin Aries was making his entrance. Within about 20 seconds of Aries finishing up his entrance, Jon Moxley's theme hit the arena's speaker system and the crowd busted into an arrangement of cheers and nearly everyone was on their feet to witness this final bout. There was a lump in my throat and my heart was beating against my chest; it was almost like it hurt. This moment…everything…was just emotional. It isn't just because Jonathan was my boyfriend but it was truly magical what everyone was witnessing. Jonathan Good was a man that beat every odd and broke through every single obstacle in his path. He wasn't supposed to be standing here today, but he was. He wasn't supposed to be a successful wrestler or make it to the top of every company that he walked into, but he has. He wasn't supposed to win championships or be anything special in this business, but Jonathan has. He's made a living of making people eat their words. Tonight everyone was witnessing the door of Jon Moxley's independent wrestling career come to a close while the door to his World Wrestling Entertainment career was wide open and just waiting for him to dive in.

While watching Jon's match standing with Sami Callihan, we were both engrossed in the match. There was back and forth action a lot of the time, eventually ending with Austin Aries coming out as the winner. Instead of Aries ending the match with a post-match speech, he instead turned the microphone over to Jon. Here we go… Jon sat there for a minute recollecting his thoughts as Aries left the ring. Before Jon even began to speak, Sami Callihan, Jigsaw, Sabre, Fox, Swann, and myself came out respectively. Sami was carrying a Guinness beer to the ring for Jon to enjoy. Sami handed the beer over to Jon, then Jon finally brought the microphone to his lips as the crowd died out their 'Moxley' chant.

"I really had I thought it in me to win tonight. I really did, that's why this loss is so painful." He paused for a moment, catching his breath. "It's been 8 painful years on the road and a lot of times, we all question if it's really worth it. And usually I get off on people booing and hating me and calling me names, but tonight, you guys were really worth it. You guys were a great crowd!" The crowd cheered as he paused for a few seconds. "The fucking talent in this locker room is sick…and I can still say fuck for a few more days so I'll say it all I want." The crowd's chants turned to the word 'fuck.' Jon brought the microphone to his lips once more, "Fuck…I gotta get in shape…" I couldn't help but laugh at that, as did the crowd. "Holy shit…thank you for the gesture, but I hate fucking Guinness. Isn't there like a cheap American draft-light beer I can drink?" Jon eventually stood to his feet as Sami Callihan handed him a light beer. He darted his eyes from around the few people standing around the ring, eventually darting his eyes to me. His eyes shifted to my shirt, "Hey, fuck, she fucking wore it..." I grinned. Jon eventually grabbed his can of Guinness beer, trying to hand it off, but no one wanted it, so Sami grabbed it and threw it to the crowd. Jon eventually ended his promo with, "I've never really done this before so I don't have anything to close out on, other than fuck, so here's to wrestling!" There was an obnoxious person in the crowd that kept trying to start a 'you said wrestling' chant, since that words forbidden in WWE apparently. Way to ruin it. The other people in the crowd talked over him and he was eventually drowned out by the other fans.

Sami Callihan grabbed the microphone as Jon was about to leave, "Dude, wait…wait…no…I know you're a modest man, but I wanna tell you from the bottom of my heart that you are one of the best fucking wrestlers in the world. One of the BEST fucking wrestlers in the world…and it was an honor working the ropes with you and traveling the fucking roads with you. Go make it in the big times and make some fucking money, bro!" They embraced in a hug for a good 10 seconds. Sami then said, "Let's get a Jon fucking Moxley chant!" And the crowd broke out in a Jon Moxley chant. Jon reentered the ring, gulping down another glass of beer. I found myself clapping as tears formed in my eyes. Apparently, Sami and I were the only ones getting all emotional out of the bunch. What can we say? I mean, Sami and I know the real Jon Moxley as Jonathan Good. We know his trials and tribulations that he's been through. Now, he was off making a name for himself in WWE. We were extremely proud of the man that we've grown to know so well. Eventually, all of us cleared out from the ring, giving Jon time to wave goodbye to the Evolve crowd.

Once the show came to an end, Jon emerged to the backstage area where the entire roster and Evolve personnel were there to show their appreciation. I stood by, clapping for him. Jonathan threw his arms up, as if he felt that the appreciation and gratitude that he was shown was unnecessary. A lot of people ran up to him and high fived him and even hugged him. I stood by, completely enamored and happy for Jonathan. He was happy. This was his moment. For a man that hardly smiled, when he did, his smile lit up the room. I know that's rather cliché to say, but it's the true. I don't know if it's because it's such a rare occurrence or what, but it was my sincerest thought on it. Jon eventually headed in to his locker room to shower and dress into some regular clothes.

I stood in the hall, grabbing some water instead of a beer. Sami Callihan walked up to me, "Hey, Nicole!" He and I embraced in a hug. I smiled as he began to speak, "Jonathan was real happy to see you out there." He paused for a moment, taking a swig of his beer. "He really cares about you."

"Thanks, Sam." I said faintly. I quickly took a drink of water, feeling a bit weird that he and I were talking about mine and Jon's relationship.

Sam was quiet for a second, "I know, it's odd having me come over here and say that. But he told me about when you caught him with some slut a few months ago. He felt real fucking shitty about that, knowing that he hurt you. I just figured I'd tell you that, since, well…ya know…Jon isn't one to really open up all that much. Not until he gets to know someone and trust them with everything anyway."

I nodded, my facial expressions told the story. I really wasn't expecting him to say something like that. I was a bit taken back, but was thankful for the kind words. "Well, thanks for telling me that, Sam."

"No need to thank me, Nicole. Just telling you the truth. That man…he's uh, he's been through a lot. Had a lot of people walk all over him…come into his life, take him for granted…"

"He's a great man and person in general." I said with a smile overcoming my face, "I'm happy I met him. Is it weird that, you know…" I went silent.

"What?" He saw the look on my face, knowing what I meant. "That you love him? No. Not weird at all. He really loves you, Nicole." I felt my face turning red and goose bumps formed up and down my arms as those words came tumbling out of Sami's mouth.

I know Jon and I already said we felt the same way earlier, but it was still nice seeing that he was talking to someone about our relationship. Someone that we could both trust. "Well, hey, that makes me happy knowing that."

Sami swooped in for another hug, gently rubbing my back. "Just don't hurt him." He said, whispering in my ear.

"I won't." I stated, biting down on my lower lip. As we pulled away, I smiled. "I'll see you in a bit, alright?" He nodded as I walked off to find Jon. I went to his locker room, knocking on the door as I walked in. He was there, in just jeans. No shirt. I shut the door with my back, standing there staring at him.

He looked up as he continued to pack his bags. "What are you doing, Nicole?"

"Just wanted to check on you." I said.

He looked up again as he zipped his bag shut, "Nice shirt you have on there, babe."

A laugh escaped my lips, "Just figured it was the right time to wear it."

Jon walked towards me, bags in his hand. "It was. Believe me…you look fucking hot." He grinned. I lightly punched his arm. "Damn it. Take the fucking compliment!"

"I didn't deny it, did I?" I said. Jon was merely inches from me at this point. I found myself wrapping my arms around his bare waist, running the tips of my fingers down lower back area, "The roster's waiting for you. We're all going out for dinner, ya know?" He nodded. "Before we go, though…I wanted to give you something." I pulled out a box from my front pocket and handed it to Jon. He perked his head up, cupping the gift with his free hand. "Well, are you going to open it or what?" I laughed lightly.

Jon tore into the wrapping paper, eventually uncovering the white box. He took the lid off, revealing a silver key chain ring in the shape of a padlock. Engraved on the bottom was J&N, our initials. "Baby…" He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine, "This is awesome, thank you."

"You're welcome." I said as he pulled away. "There's one more thing. Look under the padding." Jon looked into my eyes, then back down to the box, grabbing the white padding to reveal a photo of me. The photo was me wearing that sexy little black lace lingerie number with a purple silk bow on the back. The piece of lingerie that I wore when Jon and I made love for the first time. He smiled, gazing down at the photo. "I just figured…you know…could keep that in your wallet."

"You always manage to find a way to surprise me, babe." He leaned in, pressing his lips against my own again. Only longer this time. Our kiss was broken by the sound of a knock at his door. I pulled aside, giving Jon enough room to open the door.

"You comin' man?" It was clearly Sami standing there.

Jon nodded, "Yeah, I'll be out in a second." Then shut the door.

"Come here." I curled my index finger at him, and once he was close to me, I grabbed his forearm, pulling him against me. Jon leaned down, pressing his lips against my lips. Instead of Jon pressing his tongue against mine, I made that first move. Jon's tongue wrestled against mine. We eventually pulled away for a breather, "Baby, I love you. I fucking _love you_."

"You know I feel the same way, Nicole. But…is…uh…is, I mean…is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Everything's fine." I paused, "I just had to tell you that again." I grabbed his waist, running my hand up to his mid back, then trailing down to the lower part, near the back of his pants. "I want to buy you some drinks. Maybe some shots like we did the first night we went out to the club?" A smile graced my lips, "Then maybe I'll drag you to the dance floor against your will and force you to dance with me. Not that I'm complaining about it, but-"

"Oh, don't act like you didn't enjoy it…I know I did." He laughed, eventually placing his bag on the ground to pull out a shirt. As he pulled out a shirt, Jon continued to speak, "I enjoyed your ass grinding up against me."

I rolled my eyes, "Well, you area straight male. Who wouldn't enjoy _that_?"

"True," He paused, pulling the shirt over his head, "But you're mine, and no other man is going to touch you." He pecked his lips against mine, before grabbing my hand, "We better get going."

I nodded as we walked out of his locker room together. We joined the roster heading over to the bar and grill next door. Once we were over there, the entire roster sat in the corner area of the building. Everyone was ordering drinks for themselves, some ordering shots for Jon, and eventually some appetizers. Jonathan was real happy in that. Eventually he stood up, holding up a shot glass, "I want everyone to grab a fucking shot!" He demanded. I sat next to him, grabbing shots and passing them out around the table so everyone got one, "In the short time that I've been with Evolve, I gotta say, you all are the best fucking wrestlers in this business. I've met some amazing people," Jon's eyes darted over to me, a smile curved over my lips, Jon eventually lifted his head to speak to everyone once more, "I just wanted to say thank you all for putting up with me day in and day out, working with me…and now, let's have a toast to fucking wrestling!" Everyone was on their feet at that point, chiming their glasses together at the middle of the table as they let out some cheers. Everyone brought their shot glasses to their lips, downing the shot of whiskey. After eating some of the appetizer, Jon stood up, grabbing my hand. I stood up, "Come on!" He said.

As I walked off away from the table with him, I couldn't help but ask, "Jon…they're playing shitty music here. We're not going to dance to _this _shit, are we?"

"Yeah, we are." He said assertively. "Come on, dance with me."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine…since I'm feeling nice today." I wrapped my arms around Jon's neck, dancing with him. Almost like you would for prom or some sort of slow dance, even though the music was some shitty, metal music. Believe me, I adore metal music, but this noise belting through the speakers sucked ass. I leaned in, pressing my lips against Jonathan's neck. Jon's hands roamed to my hips, then eventually grabbing my ass. "Jon!" I said pulling away.

"Oh, shush. You know you like it!" Jon laughed, bringing his hands back up to my hips. I rolled my eyes, leaning in press my lips against his neck a few more times. Jon eventually leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. Jon pulled away, "Come and live with me." He said, completely out of the blue in my ear.

My eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Wh-…what?"

"Will you come to Cincinnati and live with me?"

"Are you…are you serious?" I really couldn't fathom the question. It was so out of the blue.

"I'm fucking serious!" Jon exclaimed. "I know it's a big question, but damn it. If you live with me, we'll be able to see each other more…"

"Well…I mean…" I couldn't say no. "Fuck, why not? Let's do it!" Jonathan immediately picked me up, I instinctively wrapped my arms around his waist, kissing his lips. His mood hit the top tier, he was so fucking happy. I told you all that all I wanted to do was make Jonathan happy, so that's what I was doing. Jonathan's career as an independent wrestler was coming to a close, but our relationship was just starting to take off. Especially with this next big step in our relationship.


	14. 36,000 Feet

**A/N: **Bit of a dramatic chapter, but there's a specific part that I think you _all _will enjoy. ;D Very short chapter, but I wanted to get this up! I was going to put this up with the last one, but wanted to make this it's own chapter. :P Enjoy!

* * *

I awoke with a heavy heart and a lump in my throat; I was on edge. Last night, Jon asked me to move all the way to Cincinnati with him. I mean, I was honored that he asked, but man, I was nervous. Stressed. And I hadn't even broke the news to my parents, not just that I was moving to Ohio, but that I was even in a relationship with this man. Obviously we were both happy, I mean, that's all that mattered, I got that. I wasn't sure if my parents would understand. Parents are always overly protective, yeah, but you haven't met mine and neither has Jonathan. That's what worried me the most. He's the type of guy that my parents warned me about when I was younger. Well, the man he _used _to be anyway. He had changed. For me.

It took me a bit to actually garnish the courage to dial out to my friend Alice and tell her the big news. She'd be the first to know. As soon as I told her, she was silent for about 10 seconds after asking if I was joking, which I wasn't. And then, her words unloaded like a machine gun. Filled with pure venom, stinging me every time she'd speak. This wasn't exactly how I wanted to start my day…

"How can you just up and leave like that, Nicole? You've only known this man for a few months!" Alice was seething.

"Alice, stop…you don't even know him, but we'll be home in a few hours. Were at the airport now."

"Fuck that! I don't need to know him. I can't believe it. You're leaving your entire family, your friends…everything…just to be with this Jonathan guy? Seriously? This is the stupidest fucking decision you've ever made. I can't-"

"Alice, stop! You're being a major fucking bitch right now." I said, becoming annoyed.

"Oh, I'm being a bitch? Well, how would you feel if your best fucking friend was randomly up and leaving? Like what the fuck."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I had already made the decision to leave. "I'm sorry, Alice, but-"

"Fuck that, you're not sorry. Save that bullshit apology for someone else. When this guy breaks your heart, don't come crying to me."

"He hasn't broke my heart! He's changed…for me!" And the tears started spilling out from the corners of my eyes. Alice and I had never fought like this. At least not since high school, over pointless stuff. I thought she'd understand why I was moving. But apparently not.

"That's what they _always _say. Man, you really believe anything people tell you, huh? You're the worst fucking friend ever." She said, the words piercing right through my heart.

"You are being such a fucking cunt right now, seriously!" As those words came flowing out of my mouth, Jon came venturing from one of the airports coffee establishments, bringing me an iced mocha coffee. I grabbed it with my free hand. He saw my face beet red and tears flowing down, immediately sitting down beside me. I turned to him, shaking my head. I then got up, not wanting Jon to hear this. I put Alice on mute for a split second, mumbling to Jon, "I'll be right back." He nodded. I walked over to the nearest set of restrooms, away from Jon, I turned the phone back no, unmuting it, "Alice, I really thought of all people you'd be supporting me in this decision. You said yourself a few months ago that you wanted me to be happy, and when the one thing that does make me happy, which is Jonathan, wants me to move out with him, I really thought you'd support the decision, but I guess not. Way to be a great friend."

"Fuck you! Like, really? You and I have been inseparable since fucking elementary school, you leave for your job for a weekend and come back saying you're moving to fucking Cincinnati? How in the blue hell am I supposed to be supportive of that?"

"Simple. I considered you a best friend, but at this rate, I see that you and I aren't getting along. You're blowing up at me for no reason. You're the first person I called, breaking the news-"

Alice had pure evil dripping off her tongue. But her next sentence was fucking low, below the belt low. "Oh, I get why you're moving in with him! You're pregnant, aren't you?" I glared, clenching my free hand into a tight fist, aggravated.

"How in the FUCK could you say that? I love Jon! That's why! And besides, if I was, what would you do? Huh? Put me under a bunch of fucking stress so I'd miscarry, is that your fucking goal from now on or something? Fuck you for even thinking that! Our relationship's more than just sex, you know!" I belted out, gritting my teeth.

"Fuck off, Nicole. Have a great fucking spectacular life together with this guy you barely know. Bye." And with that, our conversation ended. I stuffed my phone in my pocket, full of anger and sadness. I couldn't believe the things Alice was saying. I wiped my eyes away, trying to stay strong as I approached Jonathan again. My eyes were red from the tears.

"Is everything okay?" He said.

I nodded, sighing, taking a seat next to him, "I'm fine." I mumbled, cupping my face.

Jon wrapped his arms around me, consoling me, "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Don't lie to me. What happened?"

"I don't want to fucking talk about it, Jon."

"Jesus Christ, I'm just asking and trying to be a considerate and concerned boyfriend, but damn…" Jon resorted to bringing his arms over to his own 'bubble' and crossing them over his chest. He sighed heavily, annoyed.

I turned to face him as I spoke, "Alice and I just got into a huge fight, that's all." Tears began to spill out of my eyes again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Let me guess, you're second guessing on moving in with me, too?"

"Not at all." I said, folding my arms over my chest. "I'm sorry…" I rested my head against his chest and shoulder area. Within about 15 seconds, Jon wrapped his arm around me.

"Fuck what people think, Nicole." He said, his voice rugged and sincere, "This is our relationship, not theirs. If they don't like it, then they're _clearly _fucking jealous and can go fuck themselves." He sighed heavily again, "As far as your 'friend' Alice is concerned, clearly she isn't getting any and is jealous that you're dating a guy like me."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You always manage to make me laugh. No matter how fucking depressed I am."

"That's cause I love and care about you. You might be a pain in the ass, but you're my main priority right now. I want _you _to be happy."

I wiped the last bit of tears from my eyes as it was announced that the flight to Minneapolis, Minnesota was boarding passengers. Jon and I headed to the terminal and eventually boarded the plane. "I get the window seat!" I walked in front of Jon, walking in front of him, ecstatically."

"Bullshit! I want the window seat!" He laughed, pulling me by my forearms and right into him. Jon kissed my lips, as we pulled away, I stuck my tongue out, licking his lower lip, while dragging it to his upper lip, then pulled away. "Fuck…fine, you get the window seat."

"Damn right!" I grinned as we piled in to our seats. For the next 30 minutes as other people joined the flight, Jon and I talked, our fingers intertwined. Although I had just gotten into a damn verbal over-the-phone fight with my best friend Alice, I just had to look at Jon and I'd be happy. Damn, who knew one man could make me so happy? Men are confusing but amazing creatures, that's for sure.

The plane was rather empty compared to typical flights. I wasn't sure why. About 15 minutes into our flight, I turned to Jon, pecking against his cheek bones. My left hand roamed down, gripping his jeans-covered cock, giving a tight squeeze. He groaned. I stood up, looking over the seats in front of us and in the aisles, then behind us where the bathroom's were located. It was empty. I grabbed Jon's hand, pulling him down the aisle and directly into the tiny bathroom. Once in the tiny bathroom, Jon shut the door and locked it. I sat on the counter on top of the sink. I reached out, my hands roamed into Jon's back pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes, "I don't smoke, but let's share one? I could use one." Jon reached upward, undoing the smoke alarm, before pulling out his lighter, lighting the cigarette. I took a puff, then handed it over to him.

Jon took in a puff, as I covered my mouth, not trying to cough. "Damn, you're weak." I stuck my middle finger up, reaching out with my other hand to grab the cigarette once more. I took in a huge puff, exhaling like a pro the second time around, tilting my head back in the process. "Fuck it!" Jon grabbed the cigarette, taking in another puff before he threw the cigarette in the toilet, grabbing the bottom of my shirt, pulling it over my head. He unclipped my bra while pecking and sucking against my neck.

"Mmm, Jon." I moaned, my hands roaming down to the bottom of his shirt pulling it over his own head. As soon as his shirt was off, Jon immediately placed his hands around my waist, pulling me close as he sucked my neck even harder. I moaned as every breath exhaled my mouth. Who could blame me? He had a knack for this, let me tell you. "Fuck, Jon…mmm…babe…" The palms of my hands slapped his shoulder blades, before all tips of my fingers dug into his skin, then ran them down his back. Since I was wearing a skirt, Jon ran his hands up my skirt, hiking it up enough, then pulling my thong down, letting it fall to the ground.

I roamed my hands down to the hem of his pants, before reaching the button and zipper, undoing both. I pulled his boxers down along with his pants, allowing them to fall down to his ankles and he kicked them to the side. He picked me up, pressing me up against the corner. As usual, whenever he picked me up, I instinctively wrapped my hands around his waist and my hands wrapped around his neck. Jon whispered against me, "Don't scream _too _loud, Nic." Jon pushed himself inside me, just a little.

Letting out faint moan, words followed, "Fuck, Jonathan!" There was something about being 30,000+ feet in the air, in a tiny bathroom, fucking Jon, that turned me on to no end. Partially 'cause, although I had never told Jon this, but I had always wanted to be apart of the exclusive "mile high club."

Moans escaped my lips as he pushed himself inside me once more, thrusting a few times at the same, slow pace. "Jon, faster…harder!" I mumbled, digging my nails into his back once more. He did as I asked, pushing in deeper and harder. My moans were more prominent. He covered my mouth, muffling the moans as best as he could, not wanting to draw attention to us locked away in the bathroom. We had to be quick with this, I mean, hogging a bathroom just to fuck was rude, but hell, we were going to do it anyway.

Jon bit down on my lower lip, pulling away faintly, tugging down on my lower lip. "God…damn…Nicole…" He mumbled as he pulled away from the kiss, dragging his lips back down to my neck, sucking on my skin once more. "I'm…I'm gonna cum…fuck…"

He grabbed both my forearms, pinning them above my head as he pushed his cock deeper inside me, as far is it would go. "Fuck! Jon! Oh, God! I'm gonna…I'm gonna cum…" I moaned, trying to keep my voice to a minimal whisper…can't make any promises though, especially since I was on the verge of reaching an orgasm. Before I knew it, Jon and I came together…at once…both reaching an orgasm together. Our jaws dropped one after another in the 'O' shape. He let my hands go, allowing me to wrap my arms around his neck once more. He let in one last thrust inside me. The side of my thumb rubbed against the back of his neck, which the strands of his hair was just starting to form sweat, "You're fucking amazing, baby." He leaned his head in, against mine, pressing his lips to my own.

"I've never fucked someone in a plane before." I couldn't help but laugh, softly of course. "Holy shit." He whispered, before placing me on the ground, then turning to pick up his clothes off the ground, along with mine, and handed them over to me. Just as Jon spoke the next sentence, he leaned in, kissing my lips once more, "We'll have to do that again sometime."

"We will." I said as he pulled away. I put my clothes back on, as did Jon. "I can cross off 'join the mile high club' off my before I die list."

"No fucking way. That's on your goal…list…thing?" He perked up, laughing.

I was slightly embarrassed. "Yeah…lame, I know."

"Not lame. See, like I told you, you always manage to find a way to surprise me. Yet again, here you are, surprising me again."

"Get used to it. You just wait." I smirked. Jon grinned. I could tell that was something he was looking forward to. He peeked his head out the door, exiting first to make sure no one was standing outside the door. No one was, thankfully. He grabbed my hand, taking us back to our seats. We sat in our seats, acting as if nothing happened. To the untrained eye, we covered out tracks pretty well, I'd say.

After our quickie in the airplane's bathroom, I suddenly didn't feel so stressed. I wasn't really one to believe that sex was a stress reliever, until now. Honestly, I felt amazing. I've said it before. And I'll say it gain. Every woman's a freak. Jon's bringing the freak out in me…the sensual, sporadic side of Nicole is coming out more and more everyday.

Next stop… meeting the 'rents!


	15. Mom, Dad - meet Jonathan

The three hour flight to Minneapolis, Minnesota flew by after Jon and I fucked in the tiny airplane stall. We acted as if nothing had happened. We were quiet. Hell, even I fell asleep for a bit, while Jon pulled out his iPhone, blasting some music into his ears. It was a peaceful flight, one of the most peaceful flights I had ever had the pleasure (no pun intended) of taking part in, actually. I don't know if it's because my emotions weren't on edge anymore or if I was just excited at the thought of moving out with Jonathan, but I felt great. The only thing that worried me was that as soon as we'd be in Minneapolis, Jon would finally be meeting my parents for the first time…and breaking the news that I'd be moving out to Cincinnati with him. A man that my parents just met. Maybe that news would be too much to bare? Man, I don't know… I highly doubt my parents would approve of the idea, but I am 21 years old and almost 22, so I could make up my own mind on things. And I made up my mind already on moving out with Jonathan.

Decision was made.

Live with it.

After picking up our luggage, Jonathan headed out into the chilly Minnesota spring air, reaching my car parked out in the parking lot. "What if you're parents don't like me?" Jon asked as we were loading our bags into my car, parked in the airports parking lot. I looked at him, almost as if I was about to laugh. "I'm the guy your mother warned you about, you know."

"How would _you _know what _my _parents warned me about? And besides, why would you care if they like you or not? You said it yourself a few hours ago, fuck what people say about you, me, and especially _our _relationship." I picked up the final bag, stuffing it into my trunk, then shut the door. "My parents are awesome. And I think you and my dad will get along, actually. He has this quirky sense of humor, like you do. Trust me. You'll love him."

"Of course I love your father. He's the reason you're here technically." Jon snickered. That was just…wrong and nasty. Really, Jonathan?

"Okay, stop this conversation right now…you're just looking way into this, Jonathan." I punched his arm, then gently pushed him to get to the right side of the car, "Get in the damn car so we can drop my stuff off. And you can finally see my lovely apartment." I laughed, "And trust me, I'm using the word lovely loosely. It's the best place I could find on my budget."

"Nicole, I don't know if you know this, but I am a male. I don't give a flying fuck what your place looks like."

"Of course you're a male. You have a penis, don't you? That's a rhetorical question, don't answer it." Digging into my purse that sat in the middle of the driver and passenger seat car, searching for my car keys. About 10 seconds of digging I pulled the key ring out, starting the car. "You been to Minnesota much before, babe?"

"Eh, not really. Drove through here before, but never really stopped and looked around. I came here once as a kid, to the Mall of America. Don't remember it though, unfortunately." Jon pulled his seat belt down, clicking it. I did the same shortly after he strapped himself in. "Doesn't seem all that exciting out here, to be quite honest."

"Typically people would go off when they're bashing their home town, but eh. Not me. I hate this city some days. The people here are crazy, I swear."

Jon was silent for a second. "Speaking of crazy, where is, uh…I mean, I know he's in jail, but…"

I immediately spoke, covering the topic. I knew exactly who Jonathan was speaking of, "He's in jail, that's all I know." My voice suddenly lowered, "For how long though, I'm not sure." I sighed heavily as we began driving to my apartment. In order for us to reach my apartment, we'd have to travel on the interstate. It'd be the quickest. A car that had been riding my ass for the last 10 minutes, sped past us, followed by cutting me off, and then slowed way down, which forced me to slam on the breaks, "FUCKING dumb mother fucker! God fucking damn it! I fucking hate these stupid mother fuckers!" Jon looked over, almost as if he had never heard someone cuss like that. "I have terrible, _terrible _road rage. Sorry?" I shrugged faintly.

"Don't be sorry, that guy was a dumb mother fucker."

"Which one? The dumb jackass in front of us, or that creep that stalked me?"

"Both of them were. If that stalker guy ever comes within five feet of you again, I'll split his face open."

We reached the interstates exit, which diverged right into the middle of Minneapolis. "His name is Josh. He…he made me say it…before he did…things." Jon clenched his fists tightly, slamming them against my cars dashboard. "Baby, stop… It's okay." I reached over, grabbing his hand with my right hand, still keeping a hold of the steering wheel with my left, "I know if anyone tries to come near me, you'll be there to protect me. No matter what. Believe me, that means more to me than you'll ever know. I wish I could say that I'd protect you, but, let's face it, that's the man's job in a relationship." I laughed.

Jon laughed slightly, bringing my right hand that clenched his left hand, up to his lips, kissing the exterior palm gently. There was some silence among us 'cause the conversation became awkward and tension was thick, at least on Jon's part. What's in the past, was in the past. That was my view on it. Apparently, there was still apart of Jon that felt guilty when I was attacked, even though I told him that everything was okay. Jon finally spoke up, "Shit, man. Look at all these houses. Look like something out of a damn sitcom. Perfectly cut lawns, cookie-cutter type floor plans on the inside I'm sure, too. What ever happened to society? Why can't people be different?"

"I don't know. Why do people let society dictate to them?" I peered over to the set of homes on each side of the road. As many times I drove down this exact road, I guess I never really noticed how perfect everything was laid out. Almost too perfect. "Yeah, I don't know. It's crazy. I wish more people had our view on the world…that not everything's perfect…people make mistakes…shit happens, ya know?"

Jonathan nodded, "Yeah, exactly. So happy you actually understand that _everyone _makes mistakes."

We pulled into my drive way. One thing I loved about my 'apartment' was that it was actually a house that I rented out. A house entirely to myself. I just hated the location, "Yeah, everyone makes mistakes."

"What's the biggest mistake you've made?" Jon asked, perking up as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

I exhaled heavily, "Um…probably when…I, uh, got real drunk almost a year ago. Back when I was in a relationship. I went out drinking…ex-boyfriend actually caught me dancing with some guys…and, yeah…he didn't like it. So, he beat me. And violently forced me to have sex with him when I wasn't ready, nor did I want sex with him. I was a virgin when that happened…"

"What the fuck!"

My voice was low, "That's not even the kicker. I actually was…pregnant…" Tears began to form out of my eyes, "For one, I was just branching out as a wrestler and my career was taking off, I couldn't be pregnant. Nor did I want his child growing inside of me…So I had an abortion at about 6 weeks…I'm completely against abortion…but, god…" My eyes filled with tears. I cupped my face. Jon wrapped his arm around me, comforting me. "He…he found out that I had an abortion and when I came home from a long weekend of wrestling, he immediately beat me." I pulled my right arm up, turning the inner part of my bicep over, which was covered by a large skull tattoo, but pointed to a large scar, "As you can see, he pulled a knife out on me, cutting my arm…I fought back, eventually getting the knife and killed him."

"Jesus Christ, Nicole… Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"You're the _first _person I've told… about the abortion part, anyway. I figured it'd be best if you didn't know."

"Fuck that, Nicole! You always ask me to open up to you, which I have time and time again, and you keep that away from me? That's a big fucking secret…"

"I'm sorry, Jon! But I just figured you wouldn't want to know…"

"Know that some ex of yours beat _you_? And got you _pregnant_? Like what the fuck!"

"Stop, Jon! He's fucking dead! I'd rather keep that shit in my past anyway…that's why I didn't tell you."

"You keep shit bottled up for too long, Nic. That's why when you fucking tell me this shit…I get fucking angry. That's a big secret to keep away from me." Jon punched the cars dashboard again, "Got any other shit you're keeping from me?"

"No…nothing…" I wept silently, mumbling against the palms of my hands which were cupping my face. "Can we please just go in my damn house."

Jon nodded. "I'm sorry, Nicole. Didn't mean to get so angry with you, I just…wish you would've told me that when we first started dating or something. Not kept it from me for this long. That's a big part of your past." We tumbled out of the cars, and he spoke was we woke up to my houses' door, "I understand now why Alice is so worried about you. She doesn't know me, though."

"She **only **knows that he beat me. No one else knows I was 6 weeks pregnant. The only reason…Robert…found out…was because the people from Planned Parenthood called the house phone, not my cell phone…that's how he found out." I paused, unlocking my door, opening it, "That's right. Alice doesn't know you." Jon walked in first, immediately looking around the living room area. I walked in behind him, shutting and locking the door behind me.

"Yeah, and she'll never understand why our relationship is the way it is." Jon added, cupping my face, lightly pecking against my lips, almost as if he was comforting me. "Judging from what you told me a few minutes ago, we're both people with scarred pasts. We've both risen from the ashes. We've both been through traumatic experiences, but damn it, that shit didn't stop us from doing what we love." God, this is why I loved Jonathan. His way of words was just amazing. Jon pecked my lips once more, "You and I met for a reason. Not sure what that reason is exactly, but I think it's because we balance each other out perfectly or some shit. We've both been hurt in one way or another. We've both done some crazy shit. But we've never gave up. Came close, but we never did. And hell, Nicole, that's why I fucking love you."

"God, you're going to make me cry again. Not of sadness, but happiness." I laughed, as he kissed my lips once more, "Keep kissing me." I begged as he was pulling away, merely inches away from face. He did as I asked, eventually dragging me to the couch which sat in front of a bay window in the living room. Full on make out session much? I felt weak, but not vulnerable when he kissed me, even though Jon was regarded as a dangerous man. Every time his hand would trace down my body, caress my features, he was tender and soft, especially now. I'm not sure if it's because I finally opened up to him on a past abusive relationship or what, but his kisses this time around were different. Not that I was nitpicking about it or anything. "Baby…" I whispered as his lips trailed down my neck, "We…we're going to have to get going soon." Didn't want to be cock-block anything, but I did tell my 'rents that we'd be at their house around 12 PM, which it was about 11:30 in the morning. Jon groaned, "Come on." A laugh left my mouth as I gently pushed him off me, standing up. I grabbed Jon's hand, "Quick tour of my place before we go though." I turned walked to the hallway, stopping at the entry before turning around, "Clearly this is the living room."

"No shit." Jonathan said, smart-alecky.

"Fuck off!" I said jokingly, before pulling him down the hall, reaching the master bedroom, "Here's my room. And there's the bathroom. And then, if you turn around," I gently yanked him back down the hallway, almost as if we were retracing our steps, and brought him to the kitchen, "And here's the kitchen."

"Nice place. Small, tight apartment, but whatever. It's nice."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Eh, it's seen better days." Once he looked over the kitchen, I interlaced my hands with Jon's, "We better get going…" He nodded. We headed back towards the door. I locked the door behind me, heading out to my car.

About midway through the drive over to my 'rents house, Jon turned over to me, letting out a shaky breath, "Man, I'm nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. We've went over this already, Jonathan. Every thing will be fine."

"You know your parents, though. They don't know me."

"Aw, is the big bad man admitting that he's scared?" I said jokingly. In a sarcastic, sympathetic tone.

"Fuck you, I'm not admitting shit." He said hastily.

"Whatever you say, Jon."

After about a 15 minute drive, we finally pulled up into my parents drive way. Their neighborhood was much like what Jon and I were talking about earlier; a cookie-cutter, almost 'too perfect' housing development. There were children running around next door in the backyards. "Well, we're here." I turned the car off, turning to Jon, "You ready?"

He exhaled deeply, "Yeah."

We walked up to the door. I knocked, before turning the knob, opening the door. "Mom, dad?" I called out. They came strolling from the kitchen.

"Nicole!" They exclaimed, immediately diving in for a hug. My mom hugged me first, then my dad. It was as if they hadn't seen me for years. It had only been a few weeks, but whatever.

"Hey, guys. So, Jonathan, these are my parents. My mom, Brianna, and my dad, Travis. Mom, dad, this is Jonathan." I wasn't real good at introducing people, clearly.

"We've heard a lot about you, Jon!" My mom dove in for a hug. My dad stood there, staring at Jon as if he was an insect. A dangerous insect, which should be squashed quickly. This is going to be interesting. My eyes darting over to Jon as my mother hugged him. He was clearly nervous.

"Yeah, yeah…mom, you're never this nice. Stop the act." I said jokingly. She rolled her eyes. I changed the subject, "Where's Holly?" I asked, wondering where my sister was.

"She's at the mall with her friends. So, it'll just be us here for dinner."

"Dinner?" Jon asked.

"Yeah, we're barbequing. Hope you like steak." My dad finally spoke. His voice was low.

"I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy." Jon perked up, putting on a tight smile.

"Good." My mother said, turning off to head back into the kitchen. "Nicole, will you come and help me in the kitchen?" I nodded. I let go of Jon's hand, turning to kiss his cheek. There he was, being left with my dad. Nothing can go wrong, right?

X

(Clearly Nicole isn't going to be in this part, but this portion of the story will still be written in first person. Why change it up now? ;))

"So, you're dating my daughter, huh?" My dad took a swig of his beer.

Jon nodded mindlessly. He interlaced his own hands together, popping his knuckles. "She's an amazing woman." Jon swallowed hard. My father wasn't one to show emotion. That's why this conversation was awkward for both men. Both my father and Jonathan were intimidating people; both were tall, deep rugged voices. You think they'd hit it off. Men, as I've said before, are strange creatures.

"How long have you two been together?"

"I've known her for about 7 months. Been together for about 4 months."

"I see, I see." My dad tipped the beer back to his mouth, "You want a beer?"

Jon nodded, "Sure."

X

My dad walked in to the kitchen. I turned to face him as he swung the refrigerator door open, whispering, "You're not being _too _hard on him are you, dad?"

"Not at all." He said, grabbing an icy beer.

As my father walked away, I grabbed his forearm, stopping him, "Don't be mean to him, please." I begged, biting down on my lower lip.

My father laughed faintly, "I'm just getting to know him. If any man is going to date my daughter, he's going to have to prove himself."

"Oh for the love of god." I said, rolling my eyes. He always had a quirky way of explaining things.

X

My father ventured back out to the living room, continuing his conversation with Jon. He handed the icy beer over to him. Jon grabbed it, "Thanks." He pulled the lid off the glass bottle, taking a big gulp. Trying to calm his nerves.

"So, Jon, tell me about yourself." My dad asked, taking a seat on the chair that sat on the opposite side of the room, facing Jon.

Jon shrugged, gripping the beer bottle tightly, "Um, well, my full name's Jonathan Good. I'm a, uh, a wrestler." My dad scoffed. He was against the idea of me dating wrestlers, due to the horror stories he'd read on the internet or shit that he'd hear. He didn't understand the concept of 'far-fetched stories' on the internet or that people can make shit up. "I grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, lived there all my life."

"Oh, Cincinnati. The city that's rated the most racist city in the United States."

Jon took another gulp, "Uh, yeah."

Awkward silence ensued. My dad finally broke the tension with a nice question, one that Jon felt comfortable talking about, "What's it like out there?"

"It's a beautiful place, I think. The weather's the same as it is here for the most part. You'll have to visit some time."

"Traveling is Nicole's job. Has she met your parents?"

Jon sighed, "No, I'm not close with my parents." He sighed again. "My mom was into drugs, my dad, didn't even know him. I'm not close with either parents. The only relative I'm close to is my little cousin, Jenny, but I haven't seen her for years 'cause she was taken into foster care when I was 17. They told me I wasn't fit to take care of her or old enough…"

My dad raised the tip of the beer bottle to his lips once more taking a drink. "I'm sorry to hear about that. I just hope you're not using my daughter as a source to fill that void of your cousin."

"Not at all, sir! Not at all! I care for and…love…your daughter. Very, very much actually." Jon wanted to bring up the fact that he had changed. How he used to be a major fuck up, into painkillers, alcohol, all that before her met me, but instead, he kept that in. He didn't want to drag that part of history out to the 'rents. At least not yet.

My mother and I came bursting in to the living room, "Lunch is ready, boys." My mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, before throwing it over her shoulder once more. Jon and my father stood up. Jon stepped aside allowing my father to walk in front of him. I stood aside, allowing my father and mother to walk outside first. Jon and I immediately interlaced our hands together.

I turned to him, whispering in his ear. "Everything go okay?"

He shook his head up and down, "Yeah, your father seems cool. But protective of you…"

"You two will get along. I promise." I tightly squeezed his hand as we ventured to the backyard. My parents dished out the plates, giving us each a piece of steak on our respective plates. Once our food was dished out, we sat on the chair, placing our plates down on the table, Jon and I sat next to each other. "I'm going to grab a drink. You need anything, Jon? Mom? Dad?" Everyone shook their head no. I headed off in to the kitchen, heading over to the refrigerator and grabbed a Mikes Hard Lemonade, original flavor.

The sound of my phone going off caught my attention, I pulled my phone out. The name plastered along the top of the screen made my heart jump. It was Alice. I groaned, answering it, "Hello?"

"Hey…you home yet?" She asked. She acted as if nothing was wrong.

Instead of being rude, I kept a calm tone. "Yeah. At my parents right now."

"Oh…hey…uh…I just wanted to apologize for earlier…" I was kind of shocked. I wasn't expecting her to apologize, at least not this early on. "If Jon makes you happy, be with him. I'll miss seeing you around here, but,"

"Alice, it's okay. We'll still see each other. If I'm able to, I'll try to visit out here every so often. Around holidays especially. Can't make any promises, but I'll try." I said reassuring her. "I have to go though. We're having dinner with my parents right now."

"Alright. Love you, girl!" She said, before hanging up the phone.

It was like a huge amount of weight was lifted off my shoulders with that conversation. It felt good knowing that Alice and I made up. Our fight earlier was pretty nasty, but I was a forgiving person. I might forgive, but I never forget. I headed back out to the backyard, taking a seat back down. Jon and my father were in the midst of chatting about, you guessed it, sports. The only sport I'd ever understand was wrestling. "Aw, you guys are getting along?" I said jokingly, opening my Mikes Hard Lemonade, taking a drink.

"I'd like to think that we are." Jon said, grabbing a bite of his salad.

"You seem alright in my book, Jon." My dad grinned. I couldn't help but smile. Satisfied with that remark from my father. I turned to Jon, who had a gaping smile on his face. I reached my hand over, scratching his knee gently, almost as if it was a nudge of happiness. Whatever you'd want to call it.

We'd have to break the news at some point. With a knot in my throat, I finally "Well, I actually do have some news." My parents perked up. My mother's jaw dropped, as if I was going to announce the worst. Like I was expecting his child or something. Not at all was that the news. "I'm actually moving to Ohio…to live with Jon."

"W…what…" My mother dropped her fork, and my father clenched his fists. "You're moving away? When?" Brianna folded her arms over her chest, arching her back and shifting her weight. She was clearly tensing up, as was my father. He kept quiet though.

"In a few days." I said, mumbling.

"I promise, I'll keep your daughter safe. I know, it a bit of a shock, but I can promise you guys, your daughter is safe with me. Look at it this way, too, she's traveled the roads before for her job as a wrestler…and,"

"She's not leaving with you!" My father finally piped in.

"Dad, stop!"

"I, uh, my phone's ringing…" Jon up and left the table in a rush. He felt awkward, almost rejected. Our family dinner was over already. Well…this is going south. And fast.

"What makes you think you can just up and leave like this, Nicole? With a man that you barely know?!" My dad stood up, clenching his fists.

"I'm almost 22 god damn years old. I'm leaving with Jonathan and that's final."

"Nicole, don't you…don't you think you should think about this first?" My mom said, concerned.

"I have thought about this. A lot, actually. I love Jon, very much. He makes me happy. He wants me to move with him, I want to live with him, so I'm moving to Cincinnati."

"But, what if he ends up hurting you?" My mother asked. My father was pacing back and forth, anger welling up inside of him.

"He won't, mom. He's not like…Robert." I sighed heavily, "I love him. I'm leaving with him. I've made the decision already and I'm not changing it."

"But, Nicole-" My mom began to speak.

"But what?" I cut her off. "Nothing you guys say is going to change my mind. If I would've listened to you, I would've never followed my dream in becoming a wrestler. Never would've done what I loved. So what makes you guys think I'm going to back out of this idea?" I left the table, heading back in to the house where Jon was. "I'm sorry about that." I embraced Jon with a hug.

"No need to apologize. They're your parents. They're going to worry about you." He said, whispering faintly against my ear. I felt tears form in the corners of my brown orbs, beginning to drip down my cheek, "Don't be mad at them for lashing out. They barely know me." Jon cupped my face, wiping the tears away with the exterior of his thumbs, "I'm the reason that their eldest daughter is moving away. If anything, they hate me."

"They don't hate you." I mumbled, "They're just stubborn, hard-to-please parents. I just wish they'd understand why I'm leaving with you…" A sigh followed those words.

"They will." Jon reassured me again, pressing his lips against mine. "Now quit crying! Stay strong! You've proven them wrong how many times now?"

There he was, making me laugh again. "Damn it, you're right." I cupped my own face, wiping the tears away. "Let's go out there and have a calm, collective conversation and explain our reasoning, okay?" Jon nodded, placing his arm around me. We both headed to the backyard once more to explain our reasoning.

My parents were calm about it, worried, but once we explained everything, they began to understand everything. They weren't fully supportive of the idea of me moving out with this man that they barely knew, but that wasn't the point of everything. I knew Jonathan. I understood him. He understood me. Jon and I opened up to each other almost right away on everything; secrets, mistakes…everything that happened to us, our goals, dreams, everything…we discussed it. That's why I fell in love with Jon and that's why I felt that moving out with him was the best decision for us to follow through on, for **our **relationship.

I'd be lying if I told you that I wasn't scared or nervous about moving to an unfamiliar city, but with Jonathan, that fear went away. No matter what, he'd be there to give me that kick in the ass that I needed. All I needed, was Jon.


	16. Laced with Heineken and Nicotine

- You guys wanted longer chapters… therefore longer chapters you shall receive. (: This song is inspired by a few songs; namely 'Addicted' by Saving Abel, 'Bullet with Butterfly Wings' by The Smashing Pumpkins, 'Sex Type Thing' by Stone Temple Pilots, 'Mine' by Taproot, and 'Poem' by Taproot. I listened to all those songs whilst writing this chapter and garnished some inspiration! Consider this a multiple songfic, I suppose. As always, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

It was something like out of a dramatic movie. You meet the parents, tell your parents some news, and everything goes wrong. From there, the weather that was once sunny and warm out, especially for a spring day, turned to a chilly rain-filled night. It meshed with the events that happened earlier. Jon meeting my parents, breaking the news that I'd be leaving in a few days to live in Cincinnati, Ohio. I really could care less what my parents thought of it, though. They'd never understand my relationship with Jonathan. It was more than a boyfriend and girlfriend type of relationship. We hated each other at first, came to a mutual understanding of each other and our scarred pasts, and now we were together. I knew that when Jonathan and I got together, our relationship was going to be hard, but worth it in the end. We both made each other happy. We trusted each other with anything and everything, and trust wasn't an easy thing to grasp from either of us.

The few hours I spent with my parents was awkward to say the least, especially after I broke the news of moving to Cincinnati. My mother pulled me aside, saying that I'd be making a horrible mistake. But…like Jon told me earlier, why listen to them now? They told me I'd never be a successful wrestler, yet I was. Not as successful as I'd like to be by any means, but I was still successful and my fan base and credentials was growing everyday. So what makes my mother think I'd sit back and listen to their mighty words of wisdom now? I wasn't about to. As much as I loved my parents, their advice was never their strong point, especially speaking on behalf of my mother. Loved her to death, but some of the stuff she would say baffled me…

Back at my place, Jon and I curled up on the couch, watching season 1 of Sons of Anarchy. One show that Jon really hadn't gotten into, but I continually suggested that he did watch it. So, now that he had some down time before heading off to Florida Championship Wrestling, Jon and I planned on spending some time together. Yeah, I'd still be gone for indy wrestling while he'd be home in Cincinnati for a bit, but I'd still be home more than he would be when he'd actually be apart of WWE's main roster. Jon and I just finished watching the pilot episode, and he was blown away by how amazing the show actually is.

Before starting the next episode, I got up to grab the both of us a beer. "Well, at least breaking the news to my parents went easier than I thought." I said, emerging from the kitchen, carrying two green Heineken beer bottles in one hand, while my other hand gripped a bag of spicy beef jerky. "Here," I held my hand out towards Jonathan, "I heard this was your favorite beer, so I stocked up." Jon grabbed one bottle, propping it up against his thigh. "Plus, I wasn't much of a beer drinker before this, but then I heard you talking about Heineken and tried it… fucking love it!" I planted my butt against the tan couch cushion beside Jon, arching my back against the plush set of dark red and white accent color pillows.

"See, that's why you should fucking pay attention to what I say and do more often." He popped the lid off the beer, taking in a guzzle, "As for your parents, yeah. Once we explained everything, they seemed to be more acceptable to it. Your dad, though…"

"I forgot to ask, how'd that go? Ya know, my dad asking you questions and stuff." I twisted the cap off my beer bottle, taking in a big gulp.

"Damn, Chief." He said, watching as I downed nearly half the bottle in one quick swig. "You gonna take a damn breath?"

I pulled the bottle away from my lips, "What? Ya think girls can't chug some fuckin' beer?" I licked my lips, placing the bottle of Heineken in between my legs.

"I didn't say that." Jon sighed meekly, "The conversation with your dad went fine. So do they, uh, know what happened with Robert?" He finally asked, chewing at his lower lip.

"God…" I sighed heavily, not wanting to discuss him again. But I did anyway. "They knew he beat me…but not that I was pregnant, no." I was becoming uncomfortable talking about this subject. Unpleasant memories of that night flashed in my head. I mindlessly shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts away. "Like I told you earlier, you are literally the _only _other person other than my own self that knows of the pregnancy and abortion. And I'd like to keep it that way, thank you." Those final words flew out of my mouth with pure hostility filled in them.

Jonathan cocked his head, turning to face me, and threw his hands up in a defensive mechanism, "I was _just _asking. Damn, chill!"

"Yeah…and you say I'm the one that asks _too _many fucking questions." I popped my knuckles, annoyed.

"You do ask too many questions." Jon concurred, before taking a moment to pause, shifting his weight, "But here's another one I'd like to know, are you just being a flat out bitch right now just to be a bitch or is there a reasoning behind it, like PMSing or what?" His voice was rough, but I could distinguish that he was becoming progressively frustrated.

My jaw dropped, "You really want to go that route, really?"

"What route? Just calling it like it is."

I turned my head, glaring in his direction, "Like _what _is?"

"You're being a bitch. Out of the blue, too." Jon pulled out a cigarette, lighting up.

I sneered, my eyes darting in his direction, full of pure stark and annoyance, "Fuck you, Jon."

"You did. Earlier." Jon mumbled.

"You are being a fucking dick right now."

"You're the one that, out of the fucking blue, is being a damn bitch."

"_Excuse _me?" I stood up, placing my hands on my hips.

"You heard exactly what I said." Jon took another swig of Heineken, his eyes locked on me.

"You're the one that keeps dragging up my damn past when I obviously don't want to talk about it anymore!" I scoffed, "Give it a fucking rest!" Jon was tensing up. "Are you just trying to piss me off for no fucking reason or just to be a fucking asshole?"

"You're quite comical when you're pissed, what can I say?" He laughed faintly. I didn't see any humor in this whatsoever. "You women are all the same…at the drop of hat your mood can change…"

"All men are the same, too, you asshole. You men rile us up, point out our faults, and then never give anything a rest. Then you expect us to forgive you for it?" I took a swig of my own beer, "Am I supposed to just forgive you for fucking around with all those ring rats, too? Namely Trina…and your _good friend _Helena Heavenly? I've heard the stories…"

"I fucked around with Helena when I was fucking 20 years old, 5 fucking years ago…and you say I drag shit out?" Jon, with his freehand, clenched his fist tightly. His eyes piercing a hole right through me. I could tell he was becoming just as angry as I was. Whatever. You reap what you sow, isn't that how the saying goes? "Clearly I've cleaned myself up since then, _especially _since meeting you. Or is that not good enough proof for you that I'm a different person?"

"I didn't say anything like that, Jonathan. Quit fucking putting words in my mouth." I turned around, pacing back and forth for a few seconds, "Are you going to pull this emotional roller coaster bullshit with me everyday? If so…" I paused for a moment, "I'm not moving out with you if that's the fucking case."

"Alright, look," Jon placed his nearly empty Heineken on the end table, standing up too stand merely inches from me, "A few months ago you asked me to open up to you about my past, which I did. I told you EVERYTHING and trust me, you're the only person that truly knows my past. Then earlier today, you go off and tell me that you were in an abusive relationship, got pregnant, had an abortion, and on top of that, I had to sit in front of your parents and listen to them blabber about how you moving out with me will be a mistake, nitpick about our relationship which they know nothing about and then _your _parents-"

"Don't drag _my fucking parents _into this!" I pushed him, causing him to stumble backwards a tad. He reached out to place his hands on my hips, but I swatted his hands away, "Don't fucking touch me!" I ordered, my voice rising with anger. "I hate you so much right now…this Jon…this…is the Jonathan I can't fucking stand."

"What other Jonathan is there? This is me, sunshine. If you're going to be with me, get fucking used to _this_. All of this."

"You mean I'll have to get used to you being a fucking jackass? Gee, great." I brought my arm up, pressing some strands of hair behind my ear. "I can tell this relationship is going to be filled with fucking rainbows." Sarcasm dragged heavy in my voice, before I bent my arms in my chest. "I'm fucking ecstatic about this, can't you tell?"

Jon laughed manically, "You are dragging this out farther than it should, Nic."

"You're getting enjoyment out of this, aren't you Jon? Admit it. You just love fighting with me, getting me all riled up, expecting some triumphant apologetic make up sex, aren't you? Is that your goal? If so, it's **not **going to work that way with me." I reached forward, grabbing Jon's pack of cigarettes, pulling out a cigarette.

"I thought you didn't like smoking?" Jon asked as I pulled the box of cigarettes off the table.

"Don't change the fucking subject." I lit the cigarette, placing it on the tip my lips, then grabbing his lighter, "I don't like smoking, but it's a stress reliever. Now, answer me. You're just pulling this shit to get me all riled up and angry, _right_?" Taking in a breath, I felt my heart palpitate against my chest, just waiting to see what he'd say. To my surprise, he actually had a look on his face as if he'd say something sincere.

"If that is the case, you know I'd never admit it." Jon grabbed his beer, taking another swig. I rolled my eyes, "But like I said, babe, you're pretty fucking comical when your pissed. All flushed and hot. I'll admit that it's pretty cute."

I sucked in another breath of the sweet nicotine, then exhaled, "Fuck off, Jon. Seriously." I pushed him again, causing him to stumble backwards on the couch, spilling his beer on my carpet. "God damn it!" I sprinted into the kitchen, grabbing a towel and carpet cleaner.

"It's just beer, Nicole. _Chill_!" Jon yelled.

I emerged from the kitchen, "No…it's not just beer! My fucking landlord is a psychotic cunt and if this place isn't in tip top shape when I finally leave this fucking place, I'll have to pay for it. Ever heard of deposit agreement?" I sprayed some carpet cleaner on the spill, then used some elbow grease and scrubbed the mess up.

Jonathan stood up, his voice was low, "If you need the deposit covered, I'll pay for it." He offered.

"No, I'm not going to let you start paying for shit." I said, finally patting the

"If your lowlife fucking landlord is going to get pissed over that stain, let her. Besides," Jon stood back up, wiping the small amount of beer that spilled on his hand and forearm on his jeans, "Even though you're the one that caused the spill, I shouldn't have been a pussy and allowed myself to stumble backwards. That push of yours, man…that was _weak_, babe." I looked up, glaring at him. My eyebrows furrowed. Jon kneeled down at my level, "You'd think all that time in wrestling school it'd at least teach you to not be such a puss and weakling." Jon patted my cheek, a tight smirk draped over his lips.

"You're such an ass!" I sighed heavily, "Look at us."

"Look at _what_?" Jon perked up, standing to a vertical base.

"We're fighting over the stupidest shit." I couldn't help but laugh, standing up myself. Placing my hands on my hip, I handed him over the cigarette, which he gladly took, taking in a drag of the nicotine, "Okay, not exactly fighting…but…you know…you are being a dick right now, though."

"You just want to go around in circles with this, don't you?"

"If you say that I'm acting like a bitch again, so help me GOD…"

"Oh, I implore you…what are you going to do to a man like me?" I swallowed hard, completely silent, not sure what to say without going into intricate detail. "Come on, tell me what you'd do… I'm practically begging you…speak! Don't be a little…bitch…" Jon smirked at that remark.

"You fucking _asshole_!" I balled my own fists up, pushing him again forcefully. He stumbled backwards on the couch. My lips curved into a tight smirk as I turned around, my back facing him now. He immediately grabbed my forearm, forcing me to turn around. I tried to pull my arm away, but he used his strength and didn't allow me to pull away. "Stop it!" I belted out, trying to punch him with my other arm, but Jon caught it, eventually wrapping his arms around me and forced me to fall on his lap. He laughed the entire time, too. "Fuck, Jon… is this comedic relief for you or something?" Jon still had the cigarette, which was nearly gone, tucked in on the tip of his lips. He mumbled some words, not wanting the nicotine filled strip to fall and burn him. I pulled my arm away, taking the remainder of the cigarette, "What? What'd you say?" I said in a low voice, before bringing the cigarette to my lips, taking in the sweet nicotine once more.

"Well," He paused for a moment, exhaling the remainder of the cigarette smoke, "I've already said that when your pissed off, it's cute. But yeah, it's comedic to me. You women get pissed off easily. I just love getting them riled up, _especially _you." Jon sucked in a breath, "You, your fun to piss of. 'Cause it's easy. You're easy to piss off, Nicole. And you manage to look fucking sexy pissed off." Jon caressed my face with his hand that was no longer wrapped around me, "And trust me, that isn't easy to pull of, babe."

"Whatever." I mumbled, "Can we just watch some more Sons now?"

"I swear, you love that Jax guy more than you love me. Jesus Christ."

"Aw, you remembered his name! But yeah, Charlie Hunnman is a sexy, _sexy _man. Mmm." I moaned faintly, grinning.

"I could kick his ass. It'd take just one Louisville slugger and BAM!, that dude would be out like a damn light." Jon folded his arms over his chest.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. I let out a gasp, "Is Jonathan…_jealous_?"

"Fuck you, no. I'm not jealous."

"Right, sure…" Sarcasm was heavy in my voice once more as I turned to face him.

"Fuck off. I'm not fucking jealous. Hell-"

I pressed my lips against Jon's, clearly causing him to shut up immediately. Pulling away, almost whispering, "You really need to shut up sometimes." I laughed again, "Besides, if you had longer hair, you'd look like him sort of. In a way, I suppose."

"I had longer hair back in the day. But when I cleaned up, I cut it. I actually was able to put my hair in a damn pony tail at one point. Picture… picture Shawn Michaels' hair…on me. That's what I had when I first started out in wrestling."

"You just had to cut that? I'd kill to see your hair _that _long."

"Yeah, well don't get your hopes up." Jon scoffed, "I'm not growing my hair out like that _ever _again."

"You suck, Jon." I sighed heavily, before getting up to grab another round of beer for the two of us. Jon, pinched my ass just as I stood up. As I began walking to the kitchen, I turned around, glaring in Jon's direction. If there's one thing I that could top my list in this world, is when people pinched my ass. I hated that. I know, it's strange. But I'm a strange chick. I'm not your typical female, you should know that already. Jon stayed true to his word though, he just loved getting me all riled up. "You know Jon," I said, emerging from the kitchen once more. Two Heineken beers in each hand. Then I continued to speak, "You play with fire too long, you're bound to get burned."

"What the fuck is this cryptic shit your trying to pull with me?" Jon asked as I handed his beer over.

"Getting me all riled up. I must admit, you do stay true to your word." I took a seat next to him, crossing my legs over one another at the ankle, then twisted the cap off the bottle, taking a quick swig, "But sooner or later, you're going to get what's coming to you. You just wait."

"Again, like I asked earlier, what do you plan on doing to me if I continue to rile you up, huh?" Jon twisted the cap off his bottle, throwing the cap onto the ground. "Don't disregard the question either. I'm intrigued."

"Well…first off, I don't have to explain shit to you. Besides," I took another drink, "I'm just going to let that eat away at you…" I grinned excitedly, before a faint laugh left my lips. I couldn't help it. Much like Jon saying it was easy to get me riled, it was easy getting him riled up just as much. Not by making him angry like he does for me, but it's easy making him angry and obsessive over something; he wanted an answer right now. But he wasn't going to get one. Not yet.

"You're an evil woman, I'm telling you that right now."

Another laugh left my system, "Trust me, I know that. I _enjoy _teasing you." I took a swig of Heineken, "It's easy. Like it's easy for you getting me riled up. Payback's a bitch, huh?"

He scoffed, "Please…"

"Please…" I said sarcastically. "You are easy to tease, darling. Remember? A few months ago… in the locker room?"

"Yeah…I remember that…how could I forget something like _that_?" Jon reached over, placing his hand on my leg, trailing it up and down my thigh. "Come here."

I darted my eyes over at him, "Nope." A long, drawn out facial expression followed, my eyebrow furrowed slightly. My eyes were shifted in his direction for a few seconds, almost as if I looked innocent in the process.

Jon reached over, grabbing my hands, forcing me to come over to him. He pressed his lips against mine. "You know, that nope of yours was cute…" He said as he pulled away. His voice shifting, pitching upward almost out of pure excitement, "You just gave me an idea…holy shit."

I looked at him with pure confusion, "Uh…and what idea is this?"

"In WWE…if I ever get asked some stupid fucking question…I'm so pulling that nope thing off. It'll be great!"

"First, do I get a royalty check in that case? And second, I think you've had one too many beers today, baby."

"Hell no, your not getting royalty checks for that. And, right…you've had the same amount of booze today as me…if not more…you had Mike's Hard Lemonade earlier. How can you drink that shit, anyway? Beer's a thousand times better."

"Some beer is, yeah. The majority of beer tastes like monkey piss."

"How do you know what monkey piss tastes like?"

"I swear, you have the mentality of a fucking 13 year old, Jonathan."

"Nicole…I'm a man. We say the stupidest shit."

"Obviously…" I said meekly. "Truer words have never came out of your mouth. I'm glad your man enough to admit that."

"What's the point in lying?" He asked, "It's fucking stupid if you ask me."

I bit my lip. Jon had never technically lied to me…but I had lied to him in the past. Granted it was a small white lie, it was still a lie nonetheless. That was still bothering me, even though it was months ago. "Yeah…it's stupid…I still feel, uh…bad for…lying to you…"

"About what?" My eyes diverted to Jon and I shot him 'the look.' He immediately remembered, "Oh…that…don't feel bad about that, babe. I already told you. You had your reasoning. You didn't know what that bastard would do if there were cops surrounding your place. It's understandable. It's not like I'm going to get pissed at you for that Nicole."

"Good…I…I appreciate that. I'm glad you're understanding of it. I just don't want you to feel guilty about it happening." Jon took in a big gulp of Heineken. "It was bound to happen anyway…"

"You're talking crazy now, babe. Do you really want to rehash this sensitive subject again?"

"I was just apologizing for lying to you…"

"For the millionth time, though…really, Nic?" Jon sighed, "I feel like your doing this for to garner more attention from me or something."

"Right…sure…that's totally why…"

"Oh, you're just wanting more sympathy, is that it?"

"You make it sound like I fucking paid the guy to stalk me or something!"

"I didn't say anything remotely close to that…but, Nicole, are you, uh…are you hiding anything else from me? Got anything you'd like to tell me? The floors open!"

"I'm not hiding anything from you. Sorry that I actually have a heart and care about things." I rolled my eyes, taking in a large gulp of the beer. "You are a fucking asshole, God. And trust me, that isn't sour grapes."

"Please, tell me something I don't already know." I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes again, one thing I tried to avoid. Even though Jon was probably drunk, his words slightly slurred, he still was aware on what he was saying. And the fact that he said that I was bringing stuff up for his sympathy or attention was low.

I scoffed, "Whatever, Jon. Whatever." Clearly I wanted to end the conversation.

"_Whatever_." He said in a heckling tone.

"I'm just going to go to bed now." I stood up, trying to escape down the hallway to my bedroom. As soon as I was about midway through the living room, Jon stumbled up to a vertical stance, following me. "You know, Jon, sometimes you just have to leave me alone…" I said, not even turning around to say it to his face.

At my bedroom door, Jon grabbed my arm, pulling me close, "Hey, hey…c'mere."

"No, Jon. Stop." Jon swiped some hair out of my face, leaning in to kiss. "Jon, stop!" He didn't stop, his hands trailed down my neck and down my body.

He let out a maniacal chuckle, "Earlier you were _begging _me not to stop." His hands reached my hips, pulling at the brim of my pants.

"Stop it, Jon! You're acting fucking crazy right now!" I swayed his arms away, but he kept coming at me. I pushed him away, "Stop!"

"Come on, babe. I know this eats you up inside. You know you want me." I was becoming uncomfortable. He tried to cup my face, but I managed to turn my head, despite on how close he was to me.

"Not you…not this Jonathan right now, no. I don't. Can I please just go to bed? You're a fucking asshole when you're drunk." He cupped my face, forcing me to press my own lips to his. The taste of Heineken and nicotine. He pulled away, "Jon, please…just…go…" I said weakly.

"You're getting weaker. Come on, sooner or later, I'm going to be pounding your fucking pussy." Jon's words were more and more slurred.

I scoffed, "Alright, I'm done here." I grabbed the knob to my bedroom, exiting into the room, Jon followed of course. Like a damn puppy dog. "Get out of here, Jon!" I balled both my fists up, pushing him away. He stumbled back against the door shutting it. "Get out!" I barked. He came closer to me, trying to touch me, but I pushed his arms out of my way. "Leave me alone!" I balled my fists back up again, pushing them against his chest, but Jon wrapped his arms around my body, violently kissing me, even chomping down on my lower lip. I really wasn't feeling this…I didn't want sex from Jon right now. I couldn't really fathom what was going on either. We were both drunk; Jon was more drunk than I was of course. I didn't keep track of how much alcohol he had at my parents house, but judging by how nervous he was, he drank a few over there to calm his nerves. Funny. Jon always said he never got nervous for anything or anyone anymore, yet he was nervous when meeting my parents for the first time. Huh, funny. "Jon, please…stop… not right now. I don't want you right now."

"You…you're pushing me away? Just like all those people that pushed me away…you're just like them!" He stumbled backwards, his back pressing against my door. He cupped his forehead with his hand.

"Babe, you're talking crazy…Jon?" I looked over at him. He was…crying. Not a lot or anything, but that man was _crying_! "Jon?" I reached out touching his shoulder blade for comfort. Didn't know Jon was an emotional drunk, on top of a sarcastic asshole drunk, too. "Baby?"

He flinched, pushing my hand away, "Don't touch me!" He screamed. I jumped backward a little, baffled. "Hey, hey…you know what? You…" He leaned in, taking a whiff of my neck where, earlier in the day, I sprayed some perfume, "You…you smell like the inside of my mom's purse. I kind of like it… She used to hide tootsie rolls in there." He grabbed the back of my hair, pulling me into him, "You can relax a little bit…I kinda like that you're shaking a little bit…I'm kind of enjoying this…" By this point, Jon had his arms wrapped around me. Almost like a damn snake constricting it's preys airways.

"Jonathan… stop!" I managed to escape his grasp, pushing his arms away. "Get out of my room!" I stated, finally standing my own ground. Jon turned around, laughing. He opened the door, "Stay out. Go lay down and pass out on the couch or something and we'll talk in the morning, but Jesus, stay away from me for the rest of the night."

I watched as Jon stumbled down the hallway, eventually turning to his right back into the living room. Of course, not wanting him to injure himself or pass out flat on his back and having the possibility of puking and choking on his vomit, I stood there, watching as Jon stumbled to lay on the couch. Eventually he did; it didn't take long. Maybe 5 minutes. And he was out for the rest of the night. I grabbed a cool rag, sitting him up in a sitting position, then tilted his head back slightly, placing the cool rag on his head. Although he was a complete jackass due to the alcohol, I kissed his cheek. I couldn't muster up the strength to actually hate him over being drunk. Granted, he did know what he was saying, he just didn't have any filter or a complete thought process. But everyone looked like an ass when alcohol was involved and Jon was no exception. I ended up falling asleep in the chair right next to the couch next to Jon, incase he happened to need me. Man, some days I felt like his mother…or, well…you know… his caretaker? Whatever.

_You're a hot commodity; the choice is mine and mine for keeps…_


	17. Goodbye Minneapolis

- There's a reasoning behind using pieces of Dean's promos… for one, it's **factual **information and sayings. Secondly, there's a reasoning behind it, like when Nicole does the 'nope' thing, that's where Dean will get inspiration for a future promo in WWE. You know, the infamous "nope" interview. Also, just an FYI, I might end up rewriting this story. Not sure on that yet, though… Should I rewrite the story? Give it more depth, per say? Leave your thoughts. Also: I unfortunately did not have much time to type up a large chapter, so this specific chapter is **very** short, but it's considered a filler. I'll type up chapter 18 this weekend. **The chapter following this one will be much, much longer.**

* * *

The next few final days in Minneapolis flew by, partially because Jonathan and I spent it packing up boxes, hauling stuff away to consignment shops, and, on my behalf, spending my last day working at the bar. I walked into the building completely thrilled and ecstatic that it was my final shift. I had no care whatsoever on what drunken idiot rudely said to me because tomorrow, on the way to Cincinnati, it wouldn't matter. None of this would matter. The fact that I was able to finally tell my boss to shove this job up his ass and not have any repercussion since I'd be leaving after tonight's shift was the icing on top of this cake.

In the midst of mixing alcoholic beverages, listening to a slur of words from drunks, and being hit on, the bar owner, Mike, pulled me aside and asked me to come to the back. Fuck, great. What'd I do wrong now? In the stocking area, Mike began to speak. "You know, Nicole, I've been waiting for this day for a long ass time." Mike said with pure joy.

"Trust me, so have I." I muttered, filling up a tray of shot glasses and placing them one by one on a round tray. I gritted my teeth, trying to stay as positive as I could. "But if you really hated me that much, why didn't you just fire me?" I turned around, holding the tray in the palm of my hand. My other hand was on my hip, intrigued.

"For what it's worth, you're a hard worker. Plus, the amount of people that come in this club looking specifically for you, probably due to your _rasslin' _career, has been insane. You've brought business here, so that's at least one thing I can thank you for." I started to really think was this man on some new medication or something? He had never complicated me before. Why now?

"Okay, thanks…" I said, walking to the door that'd end up taking me behind the bar, "Thanks for the opportunity here and allowing me to stock my cupboards with Ramen Noodles." I always had to leave a lasting impression on someone in the best way possible, making them laugh. No matter how much I hated someone, even my boss. After all, he was the person that signed my checks and paid me. Had to respect him for that.

"When your rasslin' career doesn't work out, you can come back here." I bit my tongue laughing. There's the boss' since of disrespect that I knew all to well. "That, or there's always stripping. I don't know you never took me up on that offer. You could've had a higher pay raise, but whatever." I rolled my eyes in disgust.

"Um, thanks…I guess." I really was beginning to feel uncomfortable, so instead of carrying on the conversation, I cut it short, "There's a large table waiting for all these shots, so I had better go…" I left the door, eventually reaching the table that ordered a tray of shots. Must've been a group of young college students celebrating their friends' 21st birthday party or something. Quite comical seeing them blabbing and tipping me extra money 'cause they can't fathom what they're doing or saying. Not that I'm complaining. More money is never a bad thing. As time passed, there was only 3 hours left of my final shift at this place. As much as I hated this part-time job, I can't even begin to express how much it's helped me. It allowed me to be a wrestler full-time, pay my bills, and have some (not a lot) extra spending cash for other necessities or thing's I needed. For once, I had a gaping smile on my face. Customer's weren't bad at all, nor were there any strange creeps tonight. I was kind of surprised, to be quite honest.

"Nicole…" I heard the faint noise of someone calling my name. It was overshadowed due to the loud club music playing. I turned to look behind me, saw no one. "Nicole!" The voice was coming closer, it was a female. "Nicole! Girl!" And there was Alice, shuffling her way through the sea of people. I hadn't seen her in days. Haven't heard from her either since she last spoke to me while I was having dinner with my parents. "I had to see you before you left. And I knew you'd be working…" She immediately embraced with a hug. I couldn't help but grin and wrap my arms around her. No matter what fight happened between us, we always wound up making up and talking as if nothing happened. "Where's your _boyfriend_?" She asked, her voice perked up at the word 'boyfriend' but still kept it at a low enough tone not to draw attention to everyone

I chuckled faintly, "He's chilling at my place. Everything's packed up so he's probably downing Heineken or sleeping. One of the two."

"Ew, he likes Heineken? That shit's nasty."

"Actually, it's not all that bad. I'm not even a beer drinker, but that stuff's delicious. So…not to be rude or anything…but what exactly are you doing here? Aside from seeing me? You could have came to my house, but why here? Why this crowded place?"

"You'll find out later." Alice belted out a laugh. There was suddenly an uneasy, nervous feeling in the air; a lump in my throat.

"Oh, God…I swear, if you have some sort of stripper bullshit planned, I will curb stomp your face. Not joking."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy it. It's a going away gift." Alice grinned.

"Great…?" My lip quivered. "I can hardly contain my excitement." I said meekly.

"Shut up. Don't be a damn killjoy."

"Ugh, fine. Well, what drink do you want? It's on the house."

"I'll take a mudslide! Double shot of alcohol, please. It's been "one of those days," you know?"

I nodded mindlessly. "I got'cha." Heading to behind the bar, I began mixing up Alice's mudslide; coffee liquor, double shot of vodka, Bailey's Irish crème, and some creamy chocolate syrup. "Enjoy!" I slid the drink over to Alice before returning to assisting with other customers.

Finally it was 2 AM. The end of my final shift at this dump. It ended with a bang, too. A literal bang. And by that I mean that I dropped an entire freshly opened bottle of vodka. Yeah… the slew of people standing at the bar witnessed my clumsy side; lovely. I knew Mike wasn't going to be happy, but whatever. Accidents happen, but that was one thing Mike couldn't grasp. Any future employees that joined his bar, I really hoped they had a better run than I did.

In the stocking area I handed over my name pin, my bar t-shirt, and took my last bit of tips that I garnered throughout the night. Tonight's total amount of tips was over $600! I really was not expecting that much in tips, but when people are overly drunk, they tend to throw more money out there than they think. I'd of course ask if that's the amount they really wanted to hand over, but they assured. The largest person that tipped me was some rich businessman. He gave me a $150 tip. I was astonished. Happy, but astonished.

"Alright, Alice. What do you have up your sleeve?" I said, darting to the front of the bar with Alice.

She grabbed my arm, pulling me to the front entrance. "You'll find out soon. Patience is a virtue…" My eyes gazed across the Minneapolis street, then turned my head left to right as Alice and I crossed the street. There was a lump in my throat. What did Alice have planned? "Come on! Or we're going to be late. Walk…faster!" She ordered, her gaze darting to me.

I couldn't help but laugh, "I would probably move faster if you'd at least give me some information on where we're going… Cause, you know, in horror movies, being secretive to a friend usual brings friends to a killer or something."

"Nic, do I look like I'd kill you?" She gave me a concerning look.

"Yes." I said blatantly. Not an ounce of sarcasm.

She glared, "Whatever. Alright. Close your eyes." Alice let go of my forearm, standing behind me, covering my eyes.

"Don't you peek!"

"I won't. I won't!" I couldn't help but grin. Anticipation was sitting in. In the darkness of Alice's hands, she carefully guided me into a building. I heard the sound of doors closing behind me. But there was no source of noise as I entered the unfamiliar surroundings. I was confused.

"Alright, you ready?" I nodded. Alice tore her hands away from my eyes; I opened them. A grin immediately flew over my face.

"SURPRISE!" A room full of loved ones, family, friends…and _Jonathan_. Holy fucking shit. A surprise going away party…for me? I really couldn't fathom my excitement and appreciation for my family and friends at that very instance. Everyone was there… mom, dad, my sister, friends from work, a few independent local wrestlers, and of course, Jonathan was there too. I really was surprised to see him there. Alice and Jon hadn't met yet.

"Oh my god, Alice." She immediately wrapped her arms around me. "How'd you get all of them crammed in here?" I laughed. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes.

Alice was crying, and trust me, that wasn't something I saw very often, "I worked my magic."

"But…like, uh, everyone is here!" I said pulling away. "Relatives I haven't seen in months… how'd you manage to get everyone here and pull this off?" I whispered against her cheek, pulling away to stare right into her wet eyes. "And this late at night?" After all, it was 2:30 in the morning.

Our gazes met. At that instant, my emotional threshold fell apart. "Friends and family do crazy things for the ones we love." I smiled widely. Despite the fact that Alice and I had fought a few days prior to this, she made up for it in a big way. I was surrounded by love. My family, my friends, and my boyfriend.


	18. Something Special

Chapters have been drawn out again, but that'll change soon. :D

* * *

The makeshift family get together 'going away' party went well, even though it was with relatives I hadn't seen in months. And that wasn't because I was away wrestling, it was because I didn't want to see them. Those family members didn't make any effort to come out and see me when I actually was home. Or, when we were forced to be in the same room, they'd sit there and badger me for making such a "stupid" career choice. But last night, I don't know if it was some sort of mutual understanding of us knowing that I'd be out of their hair and they'd be out of mine, if they were "excited" to see me leave, or if they were actually trying to be supportive of this whole ordeal? I don't know. No matter the reason, it was nice to see them before I actually left. And I appreciated the fact that they were out to see me at 2:30 in the morning.

I peeled my eyes open, my brunette orbs began adjusting to the light illuminating around my now empty living room. My arm was still draped over Jon's chest, while his was wrapped around my upper torso/shoulder blade area. The two of us maybe finally fell asleep at about 4 in the morning, and it was now 8 AM, therefore the two of us got maybe 4 hours of sleep, if that. I really couldn't really keep track of the time with all the commotion surrounding the sudden move to a new state. My entire being was running the mill of emotions. I didn't know which one to pinpoint. Excited? Of course. Stressed? Not really, surprisingly. Scared? More than you'll ever know…

"Well, that's everything." I brought my hands up, closing the trunk of my car. My tiny little 2003 Dodge Neon was packed with boxes of my items. Most of the stuff that I had tucked away in my apartment was either discarded or given away, stuff that I scarcely used anyway.

"Finally." Jon stated in a rather mocking tone, "You still have _way too _much shit."

"Well, women can't have too much stuff, if you want to get technical. I'd rather have too much than too little, honestly."

"Yeah, yeah…keep thinking that."

"I will." Jon and I huddled in to our respective seats in my car. I'd be driving first. It'd be a long 11 hour drive, so the plan was that we'd stop midway in Schaumburg, Illinois for food, and a rest, before switching seats. Jon would then whisk off and drive the remainder of the way.

En route to Cincinnati, heading east on I-94, Jon had some Stone Temple Pilots blaring throughout my car's stereo system, "So, is this, like, your favorite band or something?" I kept my hands locked on the steering wheel and my eyes veered from the road, turning to Jon, then back to the road.

"Eh, one of, I guess. My favorite band is probably Suicidal Tendencies."

"No way!" I exclaimed, "I love them! They set the bar for punk bands back in the day, kind of like what Rancid and Minor Threat's done for the punk genre as a whole."

"I agree. Punk music has always spoke volumes to me." I nodded, "As cliché as it might sound, music's always there when people aren't."

"It's not stupid. I think everyone on the face of Earth - as long as they're not living under a rock - would understand your logic on that. I know I certainly do. I agree wholeheartedly."

We came up to a gas station, on the verge of leaving the St. Paul area, "You, uh, want anything to drink? Snack on?"

"Uh…some water, beef jerky, and some gum." I pulled up to a pump, shaking my head up and down lightly. "I'll fill the car up with gas," He began digging in to his pocket, pulling his wallet out.

I cut him off, shooing his hand away as he thumbed through some bills, "And I'll pay for it." Jon couldn't help but curve his lips into a tight smirk, "I told you, you're not going to start paying for everything." Sternly, I opened the door. Jon, just as I lifted my body off the sturdy drivers seat car, pinched my ass. All I did was bite my lip and glare at him as I stepped onto the asphalt ground. Jon exited the vehicle, filling the car up with gas.

Inside the convenience store, I went over to the wall of refrigerators, grabbing an 8 pack of water bottles, followed by a pack of beef jerky, and gum. Pretty sure this stuff would tie the both of us over until we stop midway in Illinois so I didn't even opt to grab anything. I walked up to the counter to pay for everything, "I also have gas on pump 5."

"Alright…oh," The clerk, a man probably in his late 50's, pushed is glasses up on the bridge of his nose, studying the register. "That's already been paid for, Miss."

I rolled my eyes, "Jonathan…" I muttered. "I'll just pay for all this stuff." I shoved the beverages and food on the counter, then dug into my front pulling out a 20 dollar bill and placed it on the counter. The clerk rang everything up and handed over my change.

I went over to the drivers side door, opening it. The music of some acoustic band belted through the radio. I reached over, turning it down, "I told you not to pay for this stop!"

"Too bad."

"You're lucky I love you." I said, sitting down in the drivers seat. I began pulling away from the gas pump, heading back out of the driveway.

"You had better love me!" We were in the midst of merging onto the interstate once more as Jon exclaimed those words.

"_Right_?" I said meekly. I reached over, grabbing a bottled water, "Can you open that for me?" Jon nodded, untwisting the cap, then handed it over to me. "So, Jonathan…" I took in a swig.

"Yes, Nicole?" His voice pitched up, but still managed to sound sarcastic at the same time.

My lips quivered and a laugh escaped. He was such a sarcastic prick sometimes, ya know? "Now, here me out on this," I paused for a moment, "Let's say I move all the way out to Cincinnati…and our, uh, our relationship doesn't work out…"

"Well, this is coming straight out of left field."

"I'm being serious 'cause, although I don't want it to happen, it could happen either way. What if this doesn't work out, Jon?" My eyes kept averting to Jonathan, then back on to the road.

Jonathan bit down on his lower lip, and seemed a bit uneasy. "I'm not sure…" Jon's eyes darted to the passenger side window, staring out at the scenery. Then he brought his attention back over to me, while my eyes were still focused on the road in front of us. "This relationship will work though. Because if it fails, I let all the critics win. And that means I let my biggest critic win - myself. I never thought I'd be in a legitimate relationship, but I am. And damn it…I'm not going to let this fail like I did with other things…"

"What other _things_?"

"You know my history, Nicole. Don't act stupid."

"I'm not." I said honestly. "You're just…what some would call an interesting person. You amaze me, Jon."

"Bullshit…" Jon scoffed. He was never one to take praise all that well. It wasn't that he appreciated the kind words, it's just he never saw himself as above anyone.

"Look, I know you're a modest person and you don't like to be all big headed and shit, but I'm serious about this. You amaze me every single day. It's like…as stupid as this sounds…unwrapping a damn Christmas gift everyday."

"Whatever floats your boat, babe."

At this point, we were passing through Maplewood, Minnesota, a suburb of St. Paul, still heading east to our definitive destination of Cincinnati. "Yeah, whatever floats _my _boat…" I found myself laughing lightly. The song shifted into a way too appropriate song for the occasion… Interstate Love Song by the Stone Temple Pilots. That only caused me to scoff, "Did you specifically chose the song list for this trip or something?"

"I'm not that technologically advanced."

"Do you even have a computer at home?"

Jon laughed, "No, I don't."

"Great, so what am I going to preoccupy myself with when you're gone and I'm home alone?"

"Cleaning." I turned to Jonathan, glaring, "Trust me, my place needs it."

"I'm your girlfriend, not your fucking maid."

Jon grinned, "I'm just kidding. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Trust me, I'm not. I just hate that logic that all women should do is clean and be in the kitchen."

"It's a good joke, though. If only you'd take things less seriously." Jonathan grabbed a bottled water, untwisting the cap and taking a swig. I was not amused whatsoever. "Damn, Nic. Chill. I'm kidding."

I rolled my eyes, clenching the steering wheel. "There you go, being a dick again."

"Jesus Christ…I'm sorry." He gritted his teeth.

"What? You're… _apologizing_? That's something I don't hear too often…"

"I'm a big enough man to admit things when I'm wrong and to apologize. Which, I apologized." Jon grabbed my right hand, bringing it to the arm rest in-between the two seats. He kept his hand on top of mine, "Just try not to get riled up all the fucking time, over the stupidest shit. You gotta learn at some point that I'm a sarcastic person. My humor is a little…dry…but"

"I got'cha, Jon. I don't mean to get so angry all the time, but, you know…we all have our reasons." I bit down on my lower lip. "I'm sorry, too."

Jon smiled, bringing my right hand up to his lips, kissing the knuckles. Such a charmer, right? The music by Stone Temple Pilots continued to play. Jon and I took a gander at the scenery that we passed by on the interstate. It was truly awesome to be sharing a moment like this with Jonathan; appreciating the smaller things in life. Isn't that what it's all about? What life's about? Enjoy the little things. It'll keep you grounded.

Before I knew it, we were in Schaumburg, Illinois, which is a large village located in Northeastern Illinois and a suburb of Chicago. Time on the road flies by, of course that depends on who you're with. But when you're in wrestling, road trips are apart of the job. You get used to it. Time tends to go by quickly when you're used to constant traveling. I pulled into a parking space at a local restaurant, which was named Rosebud Old World Italian restaurant. Jon was asleep, his head turned the other direction. It was so cute seeing him sleep… "Jon, baby?" I lightly patted his arm. He began moving around, groaning a little. "We're in Schaumburg now." I turned the car off, taking the keys out of the ignition.

Jon stretched a little, "Alright," He yawned lightly. "Where are we stopping at?"

"It's a local restaurant I read about a few days ago. Hot with tourists and the locals, so I couldn't pass it up. It's, uh, Rosebud Old Italian restaurant."

"Sounds, uh, nice."

"It should be. The photos I saw of the place were pretty cool." I grinned, opening the car door. Jon opened his and stepped out on to the asphalt ground. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"You're the one that didn't pick up any snacks back in St. Paul." Jon concurred.

"True, but I wasn't hungry then." Jon and I ventured up to the Italian restaurants doors; Jon opened up the door, propping it open for me. "Thanks." I said meekly. It was always a kind gesture, and a rare occurrence, when men held the doors open for women. That made me wish there were more people like Jonathan in this world. One's that stood their ground and didn't listen to the opinions of others, followed their dreams, and were protective and appreciative of the women in their lives, especially their girlfriends.

Jon and I were seated at a bay window, located near the back of the restaurant. Once we were looking over our menu's, our waitress came to our table, "Hello, I'm Kim and I'll be your waitress for the evening." She was a small, petite blonde with glasses and her hair slicked back into a ponytail. She had to be at least 16 years old. Cute little thing, honestly. "What can I get to drink for you two?" Her eyes bounced between Jonathan and myself.

I spoke up, "I'll have a raspberry iced tea."

"And I'll have just a water."

"Coming right up!" The waitress nodded.

"Thank you." I grinned. "I think I'll just get something simple. Maybe the chicken parmesan. Sounds too good to pass up."

"I'll just make it easy and get the same thing."

"Sounds good."

The waitress strolled up to our table, our beverages in her hands. "You two ready to order?" I nodded. I told her that we both wanted the same thing. She then took our menus, "It'll be just a bit for your food to be ready!"

Jonathan took a sip of his water. I smiled, "Haven't had a date like this in a while."

"Yeah, it has been a while."

"Well, it's understandable though. We're both busy people. I'm just happy to have some down time right now. Especially now, seeing as you'll be heading to FCW in a few weeks." I paused for a moment, taking a drink of my iced tea, "You uh, have any idea what you'll be doing there?"

"Not really. I assume they'll teach me how to time things appropriately, that way I'll know what to do in a timely manner on the main roster. If I make it that far, anyway."

"Oh, stop! Don't think like that, Jonathan. You're a great talent. I'm pretty sure, sooner than later, you'll be the next WWE champion. Mark my words, it's going to happen." I smiled, encouraging him with the kind words. "You're a great talent and if, which I highly doubt WWE will, but if they didn't keep you, it'd be the biggest mistake their talent relations department would ever make."

"Well, thank you. You might be in WWE someday, too. WWE needs women's talent like you." I scoffed. "I'm serious! You have the 'it' factor that they need. You're something different and you sure as hell have the promo skills and wrestling ability that they need to liven up the Divas division again." I rolled my eyes, a light laugh escaping my mouth. "Come on…I'm being serious, Nicole."

"Jonathan, those words are sweet, thank you. But I don't think I'd fit into their mold."

"What? And I do?"

"You're a man. It's different for us women in this sport." I choked down a big swig of my iced tea.

"It just takes one person to change things, Nicole. You could be that one person to freshen the division. I don't want you thinking you're nothing special because, damn it, _you are something special_." Jonathan's words were sincere. He never took his eyes away from mine. Almost as if he was speaking directly into my damn soul, or however you'd explain it. But they struck a nerve in me; not in a bad way, of course.

It brought an infinite smile to my face, "Maybe, maybe…" Our conversation was cut off by the waitress bringing our two plates to our table. The food was steaming hot; fresh. "Thank you!" I said again as the waitress shot us one last smile, before walking off to assist with other customers. After about 30 minutes of talking and eating, Jon and I finished up our food. We headed back out to our car to venture back on the interstate.

In the midst of driving to Cincinnati, the next five hours flew by. We talked, listened to some local radio stations as we drove through various cities and suburbs, and I eventually fell asleep. Our drive was almost an 11 hour drive and by the time we actually made it to Cincinnati, it was pitch black out and nearing 9 o'clock at night. I was still asleep in the passenger seat. And just like I did with Jon, he awoke me. He was much more abrupt about it. "Get up, Nicole! We're home." We're home. That's right, it's our home now.

I groaned, "Alright, alright. I'm up." Jonathan opened his door and I opened mine. "I'm just going to get one box, my clothes and perfume and stuff. We can do the rest tomorrow. I'm exhausted."

"You and me both." Jon wrapped his arm around my waist, "You know I appreciate that you're here with me, right?"

I nodded, "Of course." He and I walked up to his apartment door.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out his keys. "I'm telling you right now, this place isn't the nicest, but it is what it is."

"Jonathan… I don't care… you could be living in a cardboard box. I'd still love you." He laughed, unlocking the door, then pushed it open. I walked in first. He followed closely behind, turning the lights on. My eyes averted around the entrance. It was a tiny apartment, much like mine back in Minneapolis, only his place was a lot more…uh…beat down? "It isn't all that bad, Jon. It's a roof over your head. That's all that matters."

"Yeah, well, I plan on moving out of here eventually. Lived here for a few years. It's ran it's course."

"Yeah, understandable." I walked deeper into his apartment, venturing into the living room area which was directly across from the kitchen. I took a seat on the loveseat, which was a dark charcoal grey color.

"You want anything to drink?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just tired." Jonathan grabbed a glass of water for himself. "I might, uh, fall asleep here actually." I curled up on the loveseat, right in to the fetal position, hugging my knees. Jonathan was speaking to me, but I was so exhausted his words were muttered and I couldn't even understand what he was saying. I fell asleep on the couch, succumbed to my bodies need for rest. I do remember that, sometime in the night, Jonathan picked me up off the couch and carried me to his bed because when I awoke the next day, my arm was draped over his bare chest and his arm was wrapped around me. In that moment, I realized how much he cared for me. How much he truly loved me. And let me tell you…that feeling…yeah, it felt good. Jonathan most definitely lived up to his name. Rough around the edges, a bit of an asshole, but all around a good man. Is it possible to fall in love with him more than I already have?

* * *

**So, what do you guys think with Jon and Nicole's relationship now that they're living together?**


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